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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

Mary  Randall 


%  fhr  fi^^U^/i, 


FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 


FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE 
DUCHESSE 


H  page  from  tbe  %itc  of  tbe  IDtcomte  Oe 
Cbampionnet 


BY 

S.  WALKEY 


» 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1899, 
By  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company 


GIFT      • 


.Ayv 


CONTENTS 


CHAP.  PAGB 

I.   A   ROYAL  TEMPTER I 

II.    MADAME    LA    DUCHESSE    MAKES   LOVE 9 

III.  THE   MIDNIGHT    RIDE   TO    PONTIGNY 23 

IV.  THE    DUEL   AT   NIGHT 32 

V.  CHEVERNY 47 

VI.    MADEMOISELLE    SHOWS    HER   TEETH 60 

VII.    MONSIEUR   IS   A  DEVIL 7^ 

VIII.    M.  LE   MARQUIS    IS    FOILED 85 

IX.   THE   INCONSISTENCIES   OF   WOMAN 94 

X.  THE   cardinal's    LETTERS IO4 

XI.  THE   COMING   OF    MADAME    LA    DUCHESSE 117 

XII.    MADEMOISELLE   AUR^LIE   AT    BAY 1 29 

XIII.  THE   FACE   AT  THE   WINDOW 14° 

XIV.  SILVAIN 1 58 

XV.   THE    REGENT  THREATENS 162 

XVI.   THE   MARQUIS    MAKES   A   CONFESSION I70 

XVII.   TRAGEDY I^I 

XVIII.    DE   CHAMPIONNET   PLAYS    THE    MAN I9I 

XIX.  LOVE  OR  HONOUR 199 

XX.  THE   DUCHESSE   WINS 2IO 

XXI.    SAINTE   ROXANE 2I7 

XXII.   FOR   THE   SAKE   OF   MADEMOISELLE 229 

XXIII.    LIFE   AND    LOVE 236 


ivi854J.i9 


FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 


CHAPTER  I 

A   ROYAL  TEMPTER 

"  No  !  "  I  cried.  "  There's  my  answer,  Monsei- 
gneur !  " 

''  Then  you  refuse  to  obey  me  ?  " 

"  Absolutely,"  I  returned.  '*  I  am  not  a  mur- 
derer !  " 

And  with  this  I  lounged  off  towards  an  oriel,  leav- 
ing the  Regent  of  France  and  Dubois  to  stare  at  one 
another  across  the  wine-stained,  card-strewn  table. 
Snow  was  driving  against  the  windows  of  the  Lux- 
embourg, and  a  red  gush  of  light,  pouring  from  the 
great  portico  out  upon  the  wide,  glittering  gardens, 
created  a  scene  of  exquisite  romance  that  held  me 
chained,  until  a  shuffling  of  feet  caused  me  to  glance' 
round  on  my  companions,  and  I  saw  that  Dubois  was 
kindling  some  fresh  candles.  I  hated  Dubois  ;  he 
was  coarse  to  the  marrow,  despicably  sleek  and  low, 


2  FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

and  had  a  vile  habit  of  audibly  sucking  his  teeth  in 
a  manner  which  made  me  itch  to  tickle  his  lungs 
with  the  point  of  my  rapier  ;  and  although  this  little 
wretch  had  lured  me  to  the  Luxembourg  on  a  pre- 
tence that  M.  Due  d'Orleans  desired  the  loan  of  my 
brain  and  my  sword  for  a  dangerous  State  mission,  I 
began  to  suspect  he  intended  to  make  me  his  cat's- 
paw  in  a  devilish  plot  of  his  own  conception. 

He  had  set  the  Regent  to  ask  me  deliberately  to 
kill  a  man  as  though  I  were  naught  but  a  common 
stabber,  a  black  rogue,  or  a  red  rascal — me,  Audran 
de  Championnet,  a  Vicomte  of  France  and  a  gentle- 
man !  What  if  it  were  true  that  I  had  fought 
twenty  duels  in  three  years:  what  if  my  name  had 
been  bandied  to  and  fro  by  enemies  as  that  of  a 
gambler,  an  adventurer,  and  a  rufBing  rogue,  ready 
to  sell  his  sword  to  the  highest  bidder?  None  of 
these  slurs  upon  my  free  fashion  of  living  a  gay  life 
in  my  own  way  gave  the  Regent  or  Dubois  a  right 
to  imagine  that  money  could  buy  my  honour  ! 

While  I  stayed  raging  in  the  oriel,  Philippe  d'Or- 
leans called  me  by  name,  and  I  strolled  back  to  the 
table,  caring  no  more  for  my  illustrious  companions 
than  if  they  had  been  fellow-drinkers  at  a  tavern,  and 
fearing  them  not  at  all. 

"  Well,  Monseigneur  ?  "  I  said,  folding  my  arms, 
and  looking  upon  him  with  a  burning  eye. 


A  ROYAL  TEMPTER  3 

*'  You  were  hasty,  Vicomte,"  he  replied.  "  You 
allowed  me  no  time  to  explain  my  position." 

"  It  seemed  too  plain.  You  requested  me  to  kill 
a  man,  and  I  declined,  so  the  matter  is  at  an  end. 
With  your  permission,  Monseigneur,  I  will  take  my 
leave  and  retire." 

And  I  caught  up  my  hat  and  cloak. 

"  I  beg  you  to  wait  a  little,"  he  cried,  slipping  his 
arm  through  mine.  "  You  fared  ill  at  cards,  and  I 
fear  those  few  louis  won  by  Dubois  were  all  you 
possessed." 

The  blood  surged  to  my  face  and  neck. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  often  at  Court,  Vicomte. 
At  one  time  yours  was  a  familiar  figure,  and  my 
daughter,  the  Duchesse  de  Berri,  always  regarded 
you  with  something  more,  I  think,  than  ordinary 
admiration.     Are  your  estates  gone  ?  " 

"  All,  Monseigneur  !  " 

*'  You  were  ever  a  sad  gamester." 

I  bowed. 

''  And  a  fool." 

I  laughed. 

"  And  an  extremely  bold,  accomplished,  and 
charming  rascal." 

I  bowed  again. 

"  You  honour  me,  Monseigneur." 

"  Where  have  you  been  the  last  two  years?" 


4         FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Making  the  most  of  a  gay  life,  Monseigneur.'* 

"  Which  has  now  come  to  an  end." 

*'  All  things  have  their  price,"  I  reflected. 

"  And  yet  your  sword  is  priceless." 

It  was  Dubois.  He  was  sipping  some  Moselle 
and  glancing  at  me  with  a  sly  leer,  and  whenever  his 
lips  were  free  from  the  glass  he  sucked  his  teeth 
with  maddening  persistence. 

*'  And  yet  your  sword  is  priceless,"  he  repeated. 
"  Vicomte,  His  Highness  the  Regent  has  learned 
that  the  Chevalier  de  Cheverny  holds  the  strings  of 
another  intrigue  fostered  by  Cardinal  Alberoni — an 
intrigue  which  should  be  crushed  within  a  month. 
You  are  the  man  to  crush  it." 

"  France  is  at  stake,"  said  the  Regent,  looking 
very  stout  and  princely. 

''  And  Monseigneur's  head  may  be  in  danger." 

"  Yours  also,  Abbe." 

Dubois  made  a  horrible  grimace,  and  scowled  at 
me  when  I  laughed. 

*'  You  say  Alberoni  is  implicated?  "  I  said. 

**  Deeply.  Come,  de  Championnet,  here  is  a  mis- 
sion which  will  bring  you  riches,  power,  royal  favour, 
fame,  honour " 

I  stopped  him  by  a  gesture. 

'*  A  mission  tainted  by  murder  is  scarcely  an 
honourable  one,  Monseigneur." 


A  ROYAL  TEMPTER  5 

"  A  mission  full  of  romance — of  danger,  and  of 
subtlety,"  continued  the  Regent ;  "  and  if  hearsay 
goes  for  aught,  there  is  no  man  in  Europe  with  so 
great  a  love  towards  these  things  ^^  Audran  de 
Championnet.  This  is  M.  lAbbe's  little  plot,  Vi- 
comte.  He  has  discovered  that  the  heir  to  de 
Cheverny's  estates  is  his  nephew,  Silvain,  a  man 
who  was  banished  from  France  ten  years  ago  for 
some  extraordinary  crime." 

"  It  was  committed  while  I  was  his  brother  lieu- 
tenant in  the  Royal  Guards,  Monseigneur." 

"  Exactly.  You  very  much  resemble  one  another 
in  appearance,  I  believe  ?  " 

"  The  likeness  often  allowed  me  to  take  his  place 
in  the  guard-room  while  he  diced,  drank,  or  played 
cards,  and  sometimes  I  claimed  the  same  favour  at  his 
hands." 

"  So  Dubois  told  me." 

"  But  how  does  he  know. 

"  M.  I'Abbe  knows  everything,"  said  the  Regent. 

'*  Yes,  everything,"  said  Dubois.  "  M.  le  Vi- 
comte,  this  man  has  come  to  Paris  from  England, 
and  I  have  him  safe  in  the  Bastille.  To-night  I 
will  give  him  the  Regent's  pardon,  set  him  free,  and 
then,  while  he  makes  his  way  to  the  Chevalier 
de  Cheverny's  chateau,  you  will  spring  on  his 
trail,   track   him    to  his  first  halting-place,   force  a 


6  FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

quarrel  with  the  rogue,  and  run  him  through  the 
heart  !  " 

''  A  great  thought  of  yours,  M.  I'Abbe !  "  I 
cried,  ironically. 

"  Superb ! "  he  purred,  scratching  the  table  with 
his  nails.  "  When  he  is  dead,  you  will  take  posses- 
sion of  his  papers  and  rings,  particularly  a  signet 
given  him  by  the  Chevalier,  and  ride  on  to  the 
Chateau  de  Cheverny,  where  I  dare  say  you  will  re- 
ceive an  enthusiastic  welcome,  especially  as  you 
will,  of  course,  possess  the  pardon,  establishing  your 
right  as  heir  to  the  whole  domain,  and  if  your  dis- 
guise is  perfect  they  will  never  so  much  as  dream 
their  guest  is  anyone  but  Silvain." 

''  Excellently  worked  out  !  "  I  said. 

*'  The  plot  is  sublime,"  returned  Dubois.  "  When 
you  have  entirely  won  the  confidence  of  the  Chev- 
alier, search  for  the  letters  relating  to  the  intrigue, 
and  send  them  to  Monseigneur  the  Regent.  He 
will  then  hold  the  conspirators  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand,  and  Alberoni  shall  be  the  laughing-stock  of 
Europe.  After  your  work  is  done,  name  your  price, 
M.  le  Vicomte,  and  I  do  not  think  you  will  find  us 
niggardly.  Can  you  suggest  any  improvement  on 
my  proposals?" 

"  They  are  perfect,  M.  I'Abbe." 

"  And  you  believe  they  will  work?  " 


A  ROYAL  TEMPTER  7 

"Admirably,  if  you  succeed  in  finding  a  man 
with  enough  wit,  craft,  and  baseness  to  carry 
them  through.  Search  for  a  rascal ;  no  one  calling 
himself  a  gentleman  would  touch  so  despicable  a 

plot ! " 

The  Regent  started  ;  Dubois  turned  first  white, 
then  purple,  with  rings  of  green  around  his  eyes, 
and  I  had  a  thought  that  the  little  wretch  might 
spit  at  me.  He  glanced  up  with  a  vicious  flash 
of  his  teeth,  beating  the  table  with  skinny  fingers, 
and  longing,  I  know,  to  feel  them  close  upon  my 
throat. 

"  What  if  we  command  you  to  obey  us,  M.  le 
Vicomte?"  he  snarled,  a  fleck  of  froth  quivering 
upon  his  lips. 

''  By  my  soul,  I'd  say  no  !  "  I  cried.  "  Nay,  by 
the  God  above  me,  I'd  rot  in  the  Bastille  all  my 
days ;  I'd  die  on  the  scaffold  or  be  broken  on  the 
wheel,  before  my  hands  should  bear  the  red  stain 
of  so  foul  a  deed !  " 

A  great  silence  reigned  in  the  chamber ;  Dubois 
watched  the  Regent,  and  the  Regent  watched  Du- 
bois until  I  tired  of  waiting,  and  swung  away  once 
more  to  the  oriel  with  debonair  nonchalance,  hum- 
ming a  snatch  of  a  gay  chanson.  I  heard  mutter- 
ings  from  behind,  and  a  slight  noise  of  pattering 
feet,  but  I  stood  gazing  out  into  the  snowy  night 


8         FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

until  the  sounds  dwindled  to  a  long,  intense  stillness, 
broken  only  by  the  merry  crackling  of  the  fire. 

*'  Ah,  M.  le  Vicomte,  you  have  come  back  to  me 
at  last !  " 

I  spun  round  on  my  heel  to  find  the  Regent  and 
Dubois  gone,  and  that  I  was  alone  with  Madame  la 
Duchesse  de  Berri. 


CHAPTER   II 

MADAME    LA    DUCHESSE    MAKES   LOVE 

Madame  floated  towards  me  with  both  her  little 
white  hands  outstretched — a  charming  vision  in 
cream  and  gold,  and  although  the  oriel,  shrouded  by- 
silken  tapestry,  lay  in  semi-darkness,  the  leaping  fire- 
light played  upon  the  dazzling  beauty  of  her  face, 
and  I  thought  I  had  never  seen  any  woman  half 
so  fascinating — so  splendid  to  the  eye — so  superb 
in  the  grace  and  magnificent  hauteur  of  her  car- 
riage. 

She  slid  the  tips  of  her  fingers  into  my  hands, 
and  I  laid  my  lips  upon  them — all  my  heart  seeming 
to  flame  with  unquenchable  fire.  A  subtle  perfume 
from  her  hair  floated  around  me,  and  I  had  a  thirst 
to  crush  her  in  my  arms,  even  though  I  died  on  the 
scaffold  for  my  insolence — all  my  old,  reckless, 
hopeless  passion  for  Madame  waked  and  waked 
again — long-forgotten  ambitions  stirred  my  soul 
afresh,  and   while  she  stayed  there  laughing  upon 

pie  with  soft,  alluring  eye^whqse  lustre  no  diamonds 

9 


lo       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

could  surpass,  whose  beauty  no  sapphire  could 
equal,  I  dreamed  dreams  in  which  I  soared  high  as 
the  lover  and  ultimately  the  husband — ay,  even 
the  husband — of  the  daughter  of  the  Regent  of 
France. 

*'  So  you  have  come  back  to  me,"  she  murmured. 
"  Do  you  find  me  changed,  Audran — less  beautiful 
— grown  old  ?  " 

"  Madame,  the  rose  is  still  in  her  first  and  loveli- 
est bloom." 

*'  But  the  frost  of  widowhood  has  touched  her." 

"  And  left  her  more  sublime." 

"  A  widow  at  twenty,"  she  reflected.  "  I  seem  to 
be  a  hundred,  at  the  very  least.  Perhaps  my  heart 
was  born  old.  How  many  summers  have  you  lived, 
Vicomte?" 

"  Thirty-five,  Madame  la  Duchesse,"  I  repHed. 
"  It  is  I  who  am  the  life-worn  one." 

"  And  the  loveless  ?  " 

Her  eyes  were  challenging  mine  with  a  glance  of 
inimitable  coquetry,  and,  finding  no  other  answer 
ready,  I  bowed.  She  glided  away  from  me,  nestling 
back  amid  the  silken  tapestry  until  her  face  was 
hidden.  Presently  she  gave  a  little  quick  ripple  of 
laughter. 

'*  Were  you  never  in  love,  Audran  ?  " 

''  Once,  Madame." 


MADAME  LA  DUCIIESSE  MAKES  LOVE     ii 

**With  me?  I  am  concealing  my  face  for  mod- 
esty's sake." 

''  With  you,  Madame  la  Duchesse  !  It  was  hope- 
less, and  I  left  Paris  when  you  married  M.  le  Due  de 
Berri." 

"  I  was  forced  to  marry  him,"  she  returned. 
"  Women's  hearts  are  never  free,  Vicomte,  and 
'tis  seldom  love  mates  with  love.  I  hear  you  have 
gambled  away  all  your  demesne." 

"  It  is  true." 

"  And  your  delightful  chateau?" 

"  It  is  mine  no  longer,  Madame.  I  am  simply 
Audran  de  Championnet,  a  poor  adventurer,  driven 
to  sell  his  wits  or  his  sword  for  a  few  louis  with 
which  to  buy  wine  and  bread." 

"  And  yet  you  were  once  so  gay." 

"  I  am  gay  still,  Madame  la  Duchesse." 

''  Have  you  never  a  regret  ?  " 

**  Regret  is  a  foolish  weakness  that  may  be  trod- 
den upon,"  I  replied,  smiling. 

"  But  not  extinguished.  Audran,  there  was  a 
night,  long  ago,  when  at  Versailles  you  spoke  to 
me  of  love.     Have  you  forgotten  it  ?  " 

**  Madame,  my  memory  was  always  extraordinary. 
You  were  kind  to  me,  if  I  recollect  aright,  and  gave 
me  hope." 

"  I  adored  you,"  she  whispered,  stretching  out  her 


12       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

arms  and  letting  the  shimmery  tapestry  drop  away 
from  her  dazzling  shoulders.  "  You  were  my  hero, 
my  king !  " 

I  leapt  forward,  fell  on  my  knees,  and  kissed  her 
hands  afresh  with  burning  kisses  of  passionate 
adoration.  All  my  love  was  young  again — it  had 
blossomed  anew,  and  Madame  la  Duchesse  was 
mine,  mine,  mine  !  I  arose  and  flung  wide  my  arms 
to  her.  What  cared  I  now  for  the  grey  amid  my 
hair  or  the  face  furrowed  by  perished  hopes  ;  for  the 
stained  and  ragged  coat  upon  my  back,  my  empty 
purse  and  gambled  patrimony  ?  Madame  was  my 
queen,  and  had  given  me  back  a  heart  for  love  ; 
Madame  was  my  joy,  and  she  had  brought  me 
sweetness ;  and  to  live  for  her  would  be  my  glory,  to 
fight  for  her  my  pride  ;  and  I  swore  beneath  my 
breath  that  the  man  who  dared  stand  'twixt  my  love 
and  me  should  taste  my  bright  sword  to  the  hilt  ! 
Ambition,  too,  had  caught  my  soul,  and  I  saw  a 
swift  vision  of  myself  as  a  great  power  in  France, 
second  only  to  the  Regent,  for  I  would  cause  the 
dismissal  of  Dubois  and  rid  Philippe  d'Orleans  of  a 
pestilent  rascal.  And  yet — and  yet,  if  I  staked  my 
peace  and  my  fortune  on  this  one  mighty  throw, 
would  my  luck  hold?  Should  I  win  through  with 
clean  hands?  Madame  la  Duchesse  still  retained 
my  fingers,  although  she  had  refrained  from  falling 


MADAME  LA  DUCHESSE  MAKES  LOVE     13 

on  my  breast ;  and  when  I  looked  down  into  the 
witchery  of  her  eyes,  shining  like  deep,  unfathom- 
able pools  on  which  bright  moonlight  glittered,  I  saw 
that  they  beckoned  me  still  further  along  the  path 
of  love. 

"  Will  you  yield  yourself  to  me  ?  "  I  murmured. 

"  If  I  only  dared ! "  came  the  subtle  answer. 
"Audran,  while  our  first  love  blossomed  it  was 
plucked  and  cast  aside.     May  it  not  be  so  again  ?  " 

"Never!"  I  cried.  *'You  were  young  then, 
Madame,  and  I  was  reckless.  Naught  on  earth  shall 
part  us  a  second  time." 

"  But  will  my  father  consent  ?  You  are  homeless, 
M.  le  Vicomte,  and  I  do  not  think  the  Regent 
would  look  on  you  with  greater  favour  than  he 
showed  before,  unless  you  could  accomplish  some 
great  mission  which  might  gain  you  his  friendship 
and  gratitude.  Even  the  Devil  loves  good  serv- 
ants !  " 

She  laughed  ever  so  softly,  leaning  against  my 
shoulder  in  a  manner  which  brought  one  stray  tress 
of  her  scented  hair  to  float  across  my  cheek,  and  I 
slipped  my  arm  around  her  waist,  holding  her  very 
close  to  me. 

"  You  hurt  me  !  "  she  whispered.  *'  You  are  a 
rough  lover,  Audran  !  If  I  promise  you  my  love, 
what  will  you  dare  for  my  sake  ?  " 


14       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

''Anything  in  the  world,  Madame  !  "  I  answered. 
"  I  would  almost  sell  my  soul  for  you !  " 

"  Almost  ? "  she  asked,  taking  my  fingers  and 
raising  them  to  her  full,  red  lips. 

"■  Nay,  altogether !  "  I  said.  "  A  man  can  do 
without  a  soul  in  France  in  these  days,  Madame  la 
Duchesse." 

''  I  know  a  way  by  which,  at  one  stroke,  you  may 
claim  the  Regent's  regard,  and  win  riches  and 
honour,"  she  mused,  glancing  at  me  with  charming 
sweetness. 

"  How  ?  "  I  asked,  devouring  her  beauty. 

**  By  procuring  some  papers  from  the  Chevalier  de 
Cheverny,"  she  whispered,  setting  her  lips  close  to 
my  ear  ;  and  my  heart  seemed  to  stand  still.  So 
Madame,  too,  was  in  the  plot !  I  saw  it  all,  and 
cursed  a  thousand  times  my  lack  of  wit  in  failing  to 
peer  through  this  veil  of  artful  and  masterly  diplo- 
macy. 

The  Regent  and  Dubois,  finding  me  firm,  had 
conspired  to  assail  my  heart  by  the  wiles  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Berri !  She  continued  to  lean  against 
my  shoulder,  and  my  growing  coldness  made  me 
shiver.  The  chamber  was  almost  entirely  in  gloom, 
for  the  candles  kindled  by  Dubois  had  guttered,  one 
by  one,  in  their  rich,  heavy  sconces,  and  were  slowly 
burning  out. 


MADAME  LA  DUCHESSE  MAKES  LOVE     15 

The  snow  seemed  to  have  ceased,  for  a  bright 
moonbeam  crept  through  the  glistening  glass  of  the 
great  window,  and  lay  like  a  silver  ribbon  about 
our  feet ;  while  another,  striking  higher,  lighted 
Madame's  face,  when  she  gently  slid  closer  to  me, 
and  lay  at  last  upon  my  breast.  I  saw  her  eyes, 
glorious  as  sapphires,  claiming  love  from  mine.  I 
heard  the  swift  panting  of  her  breath,  the  quick 
beating  of  her  heart,  the  impatient  pattering  of  one 
little  foot  on  the  ringing,  resonant  floor,  and  in  an 
instant  my  bitter  resentment  of  her  duplicity  in 
M.  I'Abb^'s  scheme  had  vanished,  and  I  was  bending 
to  drink  my  fill  from  the  fountain  of  her  lips,  when 
she  struggled  free,  and,  while  gliding  away,  the 
mockery  of  her  silvery  laugh  floated  back  to  my 
ears  like  chiming  bells,  beckoning  me  onward 
towards  the  gate  of  dishonour  and  shame.  *'  Quid 
proderit  homini,  si  totum  mundum  lucretur,  si 
animae  suae  detrimentum  patiatur  ?  "  This  thought 
momentarily  stabbed  at  my  heart,  and  I  dare  say  my 
face,  robbed  of  all  ripe  colour,  the  gift  of  Spanish  and 
Italian  suns,  was  grey  and  sweat-bedewed, — the  face 
of  a  man  fast  caught  by  black  temptation ;  yet, 
though  my  will  was  strong  enough  to  break  the 
chains,  I  trampled  on  that  will,  and  followed  Madame 
to  her  retreat  amid  the  tapestry.  I  drew  her  forth, 
laughing  low. 


i6       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  M.  le  Vicomte,  you  are  rough  again !  "  she  whis 
pered.  "  Let  me  go  !  You  have  no  right  to  hold 
my  hands  so  tightly  !  " 

"No  right?"  I  said,  "  no  right?  Are  you  not 
mine,  Duchesse  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,  Audran,"  she  replied,  crossing  her  feet, 
and  leaning  against  the  wainscot  with  the  moon- 
beams playing  round  her.  "  There  is  only  one  way 
by  which  I  may  be  won.  You  must  gain  riches :  I 
am  scarcely  the  woman  to  marry  a  pauper.'* 

I  bent  my  head  in  silence. 

"  And  you  must  acquire  power.  How  would 
M.  le  Due  de  Championnet  sound  ?  " 

*'  You  madden  me,  Duchesse  !  " 

"  With  a  wide  domain,  an  exquisite  chateau, 
and  apartments  at  Versailles  and  the  Luxem- 
bourg? " 

"  Madame,  do  not  taunt  me  more." 

"  And  Madame  de  Berri  your  wife  !  "  she  mur- 
mured, raising  her  face  towards  m.ine.  '*  Do  you 
hesitate  longer  to  serve  Monseigneur  the  Regent  in 
this  matter  regarding  the  Chevalier  de  Cheverny — a 
traitor  and  enemy  to  France?" 

I  dropped  her  hands.  When  I  dreamed  of  win- 
ning Madame's  love,  I  had  not  thought  of  this  as 
the  only  way  to  take  her  heart  by  storm.  She  had 
given    me   hope    while    fulfilment    hung    aloof   in 


MADAME  LA  DUCHESSE  MAKES  LOVE      17 

mockery  at  a  fool's  romance,  and  now  that  hope 
was  gone.  She  had  offered  me  herself  :  she  had 
offered  me  dishonour.  Was  it  possible  she  could  not 
know  the  diabolical  intention  of  Dubois  with  regard 
to  the  Chevalier  ?  Did  she  know  that  by  implicating 
myself  in  his  plot  I  was  playing  the  parts  of  a  thief 
and  a  murderer  ? 

**  You  are  long  in  answering  me,  Audran,"  she 
murmured,  drawing  a  little  jewelled  watch  from  her 
bosom  and  holding  it  up  to  catch  the  moonlight. 
^'  It  is  now  nearly  ten  o'clock  !  When  the  Luxem- 
bourg bell  strikes  I  must  leave  you  here  alone. 
Why  do  you  hesitate  ?  I  have  asked  you  such  a 
little  thing — it  is  nothing  !  " 

"  Is  it  nothing  to  kill  a  man  for  no  reason,  Ma- 
dame ?  Is  it  a  little  thing  to  enter  a  man's  chateau 
by  fraud  ;  to  gain  his  confidence,  perhaps  even  his 
affection,  and  then  rob  him  of  letters  which  will 
probably  bring  his  grey  hairs  to  the  scaffold  ?  " 

Madame  la  Duchesse,  with  characteristic  volatil- 
ity, changed  from  warm  summer  to  a  bitter  hail- 
storm. 

*'  Let  him  die  there  !  "  she  cried,  stamping  her 
foot.  "  He  is  betraying  France !  And  who  are 
you,  Vicomte,  to  speak  like  this?  A  gamester,  a 
scoundrel,  an  unscrupulous  mercenary  unworthy  of 
kissing  the  dust  on  my  shoes.     Do  not  touch  me ; 


i8        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

I  am  the  daughter  of  Phih'ppe  d'Orleans,  and  you — 

and  you " 

I  was  rude  enough  to  laugh  in  her  face.  "  I  am 
Audran  de  Championnet,  Madame,"  I  said,  "  and  I 
have  no  wish  to  take  you  in  my  arms  again.  You 
have  called  me  a  scoundrel  and  a  mercenary  ;  but  I 
say  that  you  lie,  Duchesse,  and  that  I  am  still  a 
man  of  honour  and  a  gentleman.  Had  Dubois  taunt- 
ed me  as  you  have  done,  I  would  have  sent  my 
blade  between  his  ribs ;  had  your  father  the  Regent 
dared  throw  insults  in  my  teeth,  I  would  have  made 
him  retract  them,  one  by  one,  at  the  point  of  my 
sword ;  but  you  are  a  woman,  and  your  sex  is  your 
shield,  although  I  confess  I  should  glory  in  tossing 
you  down  amid  the  snow,  if  I  thought  'twould  cool 
your  hot  tongue  !  " 

''Devil!"  she  cried. 

"Temptress!"  I  answered,  and  she  made  a  pre- 
tence of  spitting  at  me. 

I  laughed  insolently,  and,  leaving  the  oriel,  took 
my  hat,  and  swung  my  cloak  around  me. 

"  I  bid  you  a  long  farewell,  Duchesse  I  "  I  cried, 
and  moved  towards  the  door. 

"Come  back,  Audran  ! "  she  commanded. 

''  Nay,"  I  replied.  "  A  scoundrel  and  a  mercenary 
is  no  company  for  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri." 

"  But  I  love  you  !  I  love   you  !  "  she  cried,  and 


MADAME  LA  DUCHESSE  MAKES  LOVE     19 

came  running  down  the  chamber.  The  candles  had 
flickered  and  gone  out,  and  the  moonbeams  warred 
with  the  great  fire's  flame,  which  flung  a  bloody 
glow  upon  the  gleaming  floor,  carving  grotesque 
crosses  here  and  there,  and  bathing  Madame's  form 
in  an  aureole  of  beauty  while  she  knelt  before  me, 
the  very  incarnation  of  the  Temptress.  She  clasped 
my  knees  wath  her  soft  white  arms,  laying  her  face 
against  my  rough  riding-boots,  and  swearing  ever- 
lasting loyalty  and  love ;  and  gazing  down,  I  drank 
her  witchery  until  it  ran  through  and  through  my 
body,  warm,  like  rich  wine,  and  the  blood  in  my 
veins  waxed  hotter  and  hotter. 

I  was  no  saint,  and  Madame's  was  an  allurement 
scarce  to  be  withstood  by  mortal  man.  My  heart 
leaped  riotously.  All  my  shreds  of  honour  and  hon- 
ourable pride  fled  before  my  one  desire  as  chaff  before 
the  wind,  and  to  gain  Madame  la  Duchesse  for  my 
wife  I  was  ready  to  sell  my  soul  a  thousand  times. 
I  was  no  longer  the  Audran  de  Championnet  who 
an  hour  ago  had  glared  at  Dubois  as  though  he  were 
a  thing  unfit  to  live,  but  Audran  de  Championnet 
the  fallen,  the  bravo,  the  willing  thief  and  murderer, 
and  a  woman  had  loosed  my  passions  until  I  cared 
not  the  fling  of  a  coin  what  evil  my  sword  and  my 
sublety  might  work  so  long  as  she  became  mine 
own.     'Tis  ever  thus !    A  woman  is  a  spur  driving 


20       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

a  man  towards  Heaven  or  Damnation,  and  by  my 
soul,  that  night  at  the  Luxembourg,  Madame  start- 
ed me  most  gaily  down  the  latter  road.  Stooping, 
I  drew  her  up  to  me,  and  crushed  her  to  my  breast  ; 
and  while  her  lips  clung  to  mine  the  bell  began 
slowly  to  toll  the  hour. 

''  Audran,  you  will  be  true?"  she  whispered,  let- 
ting her  hand  stray  over  my  neck.  *'  Monseigneur 
may  depend  on  you  to  accomplish  this  mission?" 

She  flung  back  her  head  and  gazed  upon  my  face 
with  great,  shining  eyes. 

**  I  will  do  it,"  I  answered,  ''  for  your  sake,  Ma- 
dame !  " 

Next  moment  a  little  gold  crucifix  was  pressed 
against  my  burning  lips. 

"  Swear  that  you  will  not  fail  me,"  she  murmured. 

''If  Madame  gives  me  herself?" 

*'  I  am  yours  now  !  "  she  replied,  nestling  closer  ; 
''  and  when  you  come  back,  Audran,  you  shall  claim 
me  from  Monseigneur  as  your  wife  !  " 

"  And  you  will  marry  me?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  promise,"  Madame  la  Duchesse  whispered. 

She  held  the  crucifix  again  to  my  lips,  and  I  took 
the  oath. 

Immediately  the  words  were  spoken  she  rustled 
away  from  me,  the  door  opened,  and  Philippe  d'Or- 
leans  entered. 


MADAME  LA  DUCHESSE  MAKES  LOVE     21 

''What,  in  darkness?"  he  exclaimed.  ''Fie, 
Madame ;  your  imprudence  surpasses  your  mod- 
esty." 

"  Modesty's  a  poor  thing,  and  out  of  place  nowa- 
days ! "  returned  Madame  la  Duchesse.  "  M.  le 
Vicomte  has  been  making  love  to  me." 

And  she  lied  so  charmingly  that  I  laughed  aloud. 

"Indeed!  This  is  serious!"  exclaimed  the  Re- 
gent, crossing  the  chamber  to  stand  within  the 
circle  of  warm  firelight. 

"  It  was  exquisite  while  it  lasted,  Monseigneur," 
Madame's  voice  rippled  on.  "  What  a  pity  Audran 
is  so  poor?" 

"  Why,  Duchesse  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Because  if  he  were  rich  I  might  marry  him," 
she  answered,  sliding  backward  to  the  door,  and 
tossing  a  kiss  at  me  with  shimmering  fingers. 
"  Farewell,  mon  pere  ;  good-night,  mon  preux  chev- 
alier.    You  will  not  forget  ?" 

She  vanished,  and  I  listened  to  the  li^t  tripping 
of  her  dainty  feet  along  the  corridors  until  the 
sound  died  away  into  silence.  Then,  for  the  third 
time,  I  lifted  my  hat  and  cloak. 

"  Monseigneur,  I  am  ready." 

"  For  what,  Vicomte  ?  " 

"  To  play  the  devil  with  Silvain  de  Cheverny  and 
the  Chevalier's  intrigue  !"    I  replied. 


22       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

**  I  anticipated  this,"  he  said,  and  smiling  with  fas- 
cinating geniality,  M.  le  Due  commenced  to  play 
with  his  rings  in  deep  reflection. 

"  Dubois  has  already  left  the  Luxembourg  for  the 
Bastille  with  de  Cheverny's  pardon,"  he  continued, 
after  a  long  pause.  "  I  have  directed  the  guards  to 
accompany  Monsieur  Silvain  to  the  three  cross- 
roads, where  a  sign-post  points  to  Pontigny,  his  first 
likely  halting-place  if  he  makes  towards  the  Cheva- 
lier's chateau." 

"  I  know  it  well,  Monseigneur,"  I  replied. 

"  Then  you  had  better  choose  a  horse  from  my 
stables,  and  set  forth  without  delay.  When  all  is 
over,  you  shall  claim  your  own  reward.  Au  revoir. 
Monsieur,  and  luck  smile  on  you  !  " 

I  bowed,  and  retired  from  his  presence. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    MIDNIGHT    RIDE    TO    PONTIGNY 

At  the  end  of  the  great  corridor  lounged  a  man 
very  elegantly  dressed  in  white  satin,  and  as  I  passed 
him  I  saw  that  he  was  M.  le  Comte  d'Anquital,  a 
brilliant  rascal  with  whom  I  once  had  the  pleasure 
of  fighting  a  duel ;  and,  lightly  touching  my  shoulder 
ere  I  descended  the  stair,  he  assumed  an  insolent 
air  of  mockery,  and  presumed  to  twit  me  on  my  very 
long  interview  with  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri. 

"  What  brought  you  here,  Vicomte  ?  "  he  cried. 

''  My  legs,  Monsieur  le  Comte,"  I  replied.  "  I 
was  too  poor  to  borrow  a  horse." 

"  Perhaps  Madame  de  Berri  will  buy  you  one," 
laughed  he. 

"  Why  should  she  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Well,"  he  returned,  "  when  Madame  honours  a 
gentleman  by  allowing  him  to  remain  in  her  com- 
pany for  so  long  a  time  as  you  have  spent  with  her 
in  the  card-chamber,  she  is  generally  prodigal  with 
her  gifts,  as  she  is  extremely  catholic  in  her  loves." 

23 


24       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

'*  M.  le  Comte  !  "  I  exclaimed. 

**  You  to-day — another  to-morrow,"  he  said,  with 
a  laugh  and  a  sneer. 

I  did  not  speak :  I  looked  at  him — then,  raising 
my  hand,  I  struck  him  across  the  mouth  with  such 
excellent  ill-will  that  he  went  sprawling  along  the 
corridor,  while  I  pursued  my  Avay  to  the  stables, 
wrapping  my  cloak  around  me  as  I  hastened 
on. 

The  grooms  received  me  with  deference — they 
had  heard  of  de  Championnet,  and  there  was  a  look 
in  my  eyes  that  night  which  inspired  fear.  I  chose 
a  powerful  racy  Limousin  of  extraordinary  beauty, 
long  in  the  neck,  with  a  sloping  shoulder,  a  superb 
chest,  swelling  scarlet  nostrils,  and  a  flaming  eye 
that  might  have  belonged  to  an  angry  lion  ;  and 
when  they  led  her  out  upon  the  snow  I  immediately 
mounted,  and  a  moment  later  was  clear  of  the  Lux- 
embourg. In  less  than  twenty  minutes  I  turned  in 
my  saddle  to  watch  the  lights  of  Paris  growing 
fainter  and  dimmer  amid  the  wintry  haze  which  hung 
as  a  cloud  around  the  city,  and  then  I  let  the  mare 
race  merrily  down  the  white,  glittering  road. 

The  storm  had  ceased,  but  a  bitter  wind,  sharp- 
ened by  frost,  cut  my  face  and  lips  ;  not  that  I  cared 
a  curse,  for  the  memory  of  Madame  la  Duchesse 
kept  my  heart  warm  and  my  body  a-tingling.     As 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  TO  PONTIGNY      25 

for  M.   le   Comtc  d'Anquital,   I  looked  forward  to 
winning  satisfaction  from  him  at  the  point  of  my 
rapier  when  my  mission  was   accomplished.     Sang- 
Dieu  I  how    the   thought  of  that  time  sent  the  hot 
blood   rioting   in  my   veins  !     To  call  her  mine,  to 
claim  her  as  my  wife  in  the  face  of  all  France,  what 
a   day    for  the  Vicomte  de  Championnet !     But  if 
d'Anquital's     sneer    held    truth — ''You     to-day — 
another    to-morrow  !  "     The  words  burnt  into  my 
brain  and  maddened  me  to  fury.     ''  If  Madame  is 
fooling  me,  I  will  kill  her ! "     I  cried  aloud,  and  in 
my  passion    I  touched  the  mare  sharply  with  my 
spurs,  causing  her  to  scream  in  wild  rage  and  flash 
onward,  bathed  in  sweat,  like  a  phantom  of  the  lone, 
starry   night.     Above    us   glowed    a   great    mellow 
moon,  Sirius  flared  white  and  pure  in  the  deep  pur- 
ple heavens,  andCapella  was  a  diamond  set  in  iolite. 
Lyra  gleamed  beyond  the  Milky  Way,  and  the  red 
planet  Mars,  hanging  low,  shone  like  a  ruby  mid  a 
myriad  lesser  lanthorns  of  the  silent  dome.     Beneath 
the  mare's    quick  hoofs  crackled  the  crisp,    frozen 
snow,  and  the  laden  bushes  which  fringed  the  road 
glittered  with  a  filigree  of  gold  and  silver  when  the 
orange  moon,  mounting  higher,  bathed  the  chaste 
country  in  a  wondrous  radiance — indescribably  soft 
and  delightful. 

It  was  a  night  perfumed  by  the  breath  of  romance, 


26       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

and  I  bethought  me,  for  the  first  time,  of  the  inim- 
itable peril  of  my  mission.  I  was  riding  to  Pontigny 
with  a  loose  rein  and  a  careless  heart  that  I  might 
send  Silvain  de  Cheverny's  soul  to  Purgatory.  But 
if  he  proved  the  better  man,  and  spilled  my  life 
upon  the  snow,  what  would  Madame  la  Duchesse 
do?  ''You  to-day — another  to-morrow."  Peste  ! 
how  the  taunt  still  stung  me  !  Perhaps  M.  le  Comte 
was  right ;  she  would  forget  that  such  a  man  as 
Audran  de  Championnet  had  chosen  the  path  of 
shame  for  her  sake,  and  seek  solace  in  listening  to 
some  other  fool's  wooing.  I  trampled  on  the  dread, 
and  turned  my  thoughts  to  the  Chateau  de  Cheverny, 
and  to  the  old  Chevalier.  I  had  heard  of  him  as  the 
most  extraordinary  gentleman  in  France — subtle, 
unscrupulous,  scheming — a  ;-ecluse  who  had  once 
ruffled  around  Paris  as  a  beau  and  a  libertine,  and  it 
struck  me  that  my  dealings  with  him  were  likely  to 
be  a  thousand  times  more  dangerous  than  my  pro- 
posed quarrel  and  duel  with  his  nephew  Silvain. 

And  yet  peril  had  ever  a  charm  for  me,  and  even 
though  I  knew  that  I  rode  to  my  death,  I  was  never 
the  rogue  to  swing  my  horse  round  and  save  my 
neck  by  prudence.  Nay,  by  my  soul,  no  man  in 
Europe,  friend  or  foe,  dared  call  me  faithless  or  a 
coward  ;  and  though  Death  might  wait  for  meat  the 
Chateau  de  Cheverny,  I  was  none  the  less  deter- 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  TO  PONTIGNY      27 

mined  to  prove  my  loyalty  to  Madame  la  Duchesse 
de  Berri,  even  at  the  price  of  my  honour. 

The  wind  had  risen  when  I  reached  the  sign-post, 
and  the  frost  was  so  intense  that  I  made  my  way  to 
a  cottage  some  little  distance  down  the  Pontigny 
road.  I  beat  on  the  door  with  my  riding-whip,  and 
a  woman  appeared,  very  stout  and  scarlet-faced. 

"  Is  this  an  inn  ?  "  I  asked. 

**  Nay,  Monsieur ;  but  there  is  one  at  Pontigny, 
four  leagues  hence." 

''  Will  you  allow  me  to  rest  here  awhile  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Monsieur.  I  will  put  your  horse  in 
the  shed." 

"  A  million  thanks,"  I  replied,  "  but  I  will  stable 
her  myself." 

"  As  Monsieur  pleases,"  she  said,  and  guided  me 
to  the  shed,  where  another  horse  was  stalled — a 
raw-boned,  ugly  beast,  which  might  have  been  any 
age  from  twenty  to  thirty. 

"  This  is  our  Noe  !  "  announced  the  woman,  ex- 
hibiting much  pride.  ''  He  once  belonged  to  M.  le 
Marquis  de  Saint  Arnaud,  whose  chateau  lies  near. 
My  husband  is  in  the  service  of  M.  le  Marquis,  and 
Noe  draws  wood.  There,  Monsieur,  your  beautiful 
animal  is  now  amid  great  comfort.  Come  into  the 
house,  Monsieur." 

I  followed  her,  and  lounged  in  a  wooden  chair  by 


28       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

the  fire,  listening  intently  for  the  sound  of  M.  le 
Due  d'Orleans's  guards.  At  last  I  heard  voices,  and 
gazing  from  the  window,  my  eyes  fell  upon  several 
soldiers  in  glittering  cuirasses,  standing  dismounted 
by  the  sign-post.  Presently  they  sprang  on  their 
horses  and  galloped  away  towards  Paris,  leaving  a 
dark  figure  alone  at  the  crossroads.  It  was,  without 
doubt,  Silvain  de  Cheverny.  He  raised  a  hand  and 
shook  it  after  the  retreating  guards,  then  came 
striding  past  the  cottage,  wrapped  in  a  long  cloak 
which  trailed  about  his  heels. 

''  So-ho,  Monsieur  Silvain  !  "  I  muttered.  "  You 
travel  late,  mon  ami,  and  I  will  give  you  excellent 
time  to  reach  Pontigny  before  presenting  myself  to 
you  1 " 

While  I  mused  he  vanished,  and  the  woman 
brought  me  wine.  Lolling  in  my  seat,  I  played 
with  my  glass,  and  pictured  de  Cheverny  tramping 
alone  down  the  white,  crusted  road, — de  Cheverny, 
the  man  I  had  come  out  to  kill.  He  had  once  been 
my  comrade,  and  I  remember,  as  though  'twere 
yesterday,  how  Monsieur  Silvain,  while  a  lieutenant 
in  the  guards,  became  enamoured  of  a  certain  Made- 
moiselle Crespigny,  the  pretty  daughter  of  some 
strolling  player ;  but  Mademoiselle  preferred  an- 
other to  Silvain,  who,  finding  the  lovers  sauntering 
together  one  night   near  the    Cathedral   of  Notre- 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  TO  PONTIGNY      29 

Dame  as  he  swung  home  full  of  wine  from  a  tavern, 
pulled  out  his  rapier,  and,  in  a  fit  of  mad  passion, 
ran  them  both  through  the  heart.  De  Cheverny 
instantly  fled,  or  he  would  have  graced  the  scaffold, 
for  the  girl's  lover  had  powerful  friends  ;  and  it 
passed  my  comprehension  how  Dubois  could  have 
learned  that  Silvain  was  again  in  Paris,  and  planned 
so  masterly  a  plot  against  the  ChevaHer  through  his 
nephew's  death.  And  M.  I'Abbe  had  chosen  me  as 
his  instrument.  I  pondered  long.  Silvain  might 
have  been  a  very  black  scoundrel,  but  there  was  no 
reason  why  repentance  should  not  have  laid  a  chasten- 
ing hand  upon  him.  A  man  may  be  a  villain  to- 
day and  a  saint  ten  years  hence.  Yet,  knowing  that 
de  Cheverny  led  a  desperately  low  life  during  his 
three  years  with  the  Royal  Guards,  I  had  a  strong 
thought  that  the  leper  was  still  unclean.  And  so 
it  proved.  For  as  I  sipped  my  wine  a  horse 
neighed,  and  fearing  my  mare  was  in  mischief,  I 
rose,  opened  the  door,  and  quietly  made  my  way 
round  to  the  shed.  An  oath  dropped  hot  from  my 
lips,  and  out  flashed  my  rapier — for,  by  my  heart's 
blood,  there  was  Monsieur  Silvain  leading  forth  M. 
le  Due  d'Orleans's  chestnut  mare  ! 

"  Hola,  rascal  !  "  I  roared.  *'  Stop  !  stop  !  "  And 
then  I  cursed  him  with  a  million  curses  as  he  laughed 
insolently,  flung  his  leg  'cross  the  saddle,  and,  set- 


so       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

tling  his  feet  in  the  stirrups,  shook  the  reins,  and 
was  gone  down  the  road  'fore  ever  I  could  reach 
him  witli  my  savage,  lunging  blade. 

''  Tricked,  by  St.  Aignan  !  "  I  snarled,  stamping 
my  heel  till  the  spur  rang  on  the  frozen  snow.  "  So 
Monsieur  Silvain  is  a  robber  as  well  as  a  murderer! 
We  are  a  pair  well  matched  ! " 

The  hoofs  of  the  mare  sounded  light  and  clear  as 
the  far-away  tinkling  of  silver  bells,  and  dragging 
old  Noe  from  his  warm  shed  I  mounted  him,  and, 
with  only  my  sword  and  a  halter  to  guide  his  head, 
I  spurred  the  poor  brute  to  a  roystering,  staggering 
gallop.  And,  upon  my  soul,  he  possessed  an  ex- 
cellent spirit,  for  in  less  than  an  hour  the  hostelry 
lights  of  the  little  village  of  Pontigny  glowed  rosily 
out  against  the  bitter  night ;  and  drawing  Noe  to  a 
halt,  I  bawled  to  a  groom  who  lounged  in  the  porch. 
He  came  towards  me,  staring. 

"  Is  anyone  within  ?  "  I  asked,  jerking  my  thumb 
towards  the  hostelry  window. 

"  A  gentleman.  Monsieur  !  " 

''  When  did  he  arrive  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"  Twenty  minutes  ago,  Monsieur.** 

"  Riding  a  chestnut  mare  ?  '* 

The  man  gave  a  brisk  affirmative,  and  I  rubbed 
my  hands  with  intense  satisfaction.  Silvain  was 
mine  !     I  had  him  like  a  wolf  in   a  trap  :  and   after 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE  TO  PONTIGNY      31 

giving  the  groom  instructions  to  send  back  Noe  to 
his  owner  with  a  gold  louis  or  two,  which  I  could 
ill-spare  from  my  scanty  pocket,  I  kicked  open  the 
door  of  the  hostelry  and  swaggered  in. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE    DUEL   AT   NIGHT 

SiLVAIN  DE  Cheverny  was  alone  in  the  wain- 
scoted chamber. 

''  Good-evening  to  you,  Monsieur ! "  I  cried, 
flinging  down  my  hat  and  cloak  and  stamping  the 
snow  from  my  heavy  boots.  "  Have  you  a  memory 
of  Audran  de  Championnet?  " 

De  Cheverny  swung  round  to  face  me,  and  I  was 
astonished  at  the  extraordinary  transformation  of 
his  personality.  His  under-lip  drooped ;  his  dull, 
wine-reddened  eyes  burned  like  rubies  under  his 
shaggy  brows ;  and  his  cheeks  were  purple  and 
scarlet.  It  was  the  countenance  of  a  debauchee  and 
a  voluptuary ;  and  gazing  at  his  full-blooded,  loose- 
limbed  form,  I  caught  myself  wondering  how,  if  I 
killed  the  rogue,  it  would  be  possible  sufficiently  to 
disguise  my  own  lean  body  and  sun-tanned  visage 
into  a  likeness  of  Monsieur  Silvain. 

"  Audran  de  Championnet?"  he  muttered,  in   a 

low,  hoarse  whisper.     "  My  great  God  !  " 
32 


THE  DUEL  AT  NIGHT  33 

''  You  seem  startled  to  see  me,  Monsieur,"  I  re- 
plied. "  Havel  interrupted  your  refection?  Come, 
allow  me  to  join  you  in  a  flask  of  Rousillon.  Where 
are  the  maids  ?  '* 

''There  is  one  without!  "  he  growled,  "but  she 
will  not  wait  on  me.  I  was  about  to  give  her  a  kiss 
in  courtesy,  when  she  ran  off,  and  has  not  re- 
appeared.    Modesty's  rampant  here  !  " 

"  Ha  !    A  kiss  in  courtesy  !  "    I  reflected.     "  You 
were  ever  a  gay  dog,  de  Cheverny !      Do   you   re- 
member that  night  at  the  '  Fleur-de-Lys  '  ?  " 
His  eyes  closed  in  ecstasy. 

"  And  your  little  esclandre  with  Mademoiselle  la 
Madeleine,  as  Rochfort  christened  her  ?  " 
The  beast  wriggled  in  delight. 
"And  the  orgie  at  the  Chateau  de   Sainte  Ma- 
thilde?" 

He  licked  his  lips  and  sighed. 
"  You  have  a  good  memory,  Vicomte  !  " 
"An  excellent  one.  Monsieur.     It  is  sometimes  a 
pity  to  possess  a  good  memory.     So  many  things  in 
life  are  better  forgotten  !  " 

I  spoke  calmly,  and  began  to  pull  off  my  boots, 
but  letting  the  tail  of  my  eye  trail  over  Silvain's 
face,  I  noted  that  his  own  scarlet-rimmed  orbs  were 
regarding  me  with  such  an  expression  of  hate  and 
distrust,  that  I  judged  it  well  to  watch  his  move- 
3 


34       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

ments.  Crossing  the  chamber,  I  opened  the  door 
and  called  for  supper  and  some  Rousillon.  Pres- 
ently the  maid  appeared,  and  I  was  soon  settling 
down  to  an  extremely  choice  repast,  when  she 
screamed,  and  there  was  Monsieur  de  Cheverny, 
with  an  arm  about  her  waist,  struggling  hard  for  a 
kiss.     Here  was  my  chance  for  a  quarrel  with  him. 

"  Ah-ha,  I  have  you  this  time,"  he  cried,  dragging 
her  to  his  knee,  and  striving  to  pull  her  face  down 
to  his  swollen,  wine-sodden  lips.  '*  Look,  de  Cham- 
pionnet,  I've  mastered  her  !  Watch  me  make  love 
to  her  !  Take  this  kiss,  sweetheart,  and  this,  and 
this!" 

"  Let  the  girl  go  !  "  I  cried,  glaring  angrily  at  the 
rascal. 

"  Nay  !  "  he  answered,  "  not  by  your  command, 
M.  le  Vicomte  !  "  and  Monsieur  Silvain  pressed  his 
lips  again  to  the  maid's  cheek. 

''  Then  I'll  make  you  !  "  I  growled,  rising  from 
my  seat  and  getting  my  rapier  bare.  But  he  held 
the  girl  fast,  and  though  she  wept  and  struck  hirn 
with  her  hands,  he  would  have  won  another  kiss 
had  I  not  given  him  the  pommel  of  my  sword  with 
all  my  strength,  and  sliding  from  his  chair,  Silvain 
crashed  to  the  floor,  blood  gushing  from  his  mouth, 
while  the  maid  rushed  out  of  the  chamber.  The 
host  came  running  in,  and  I  bade  him  begone.     At 


THE  DUEL  AT  NIGHT  35 

first  he  demurred,  and  I  was  forced  to  make  towards 
him  with  my  rapier  before  he  vanished  and  left  me 
alone  to  work  my  will  upon  Silvain  de  Cheverny. 
For  a  little  while  I  sat  watching  him,  and  drank  my 
Rousillon  very  slowly,  keeping  my  eyes  on  Monsieur, 
and  wondering  when  his  sw^oon  would  pass.  I  had 
caught  his  every  gesture  while  we  talked  together. 
I  now  had  leisure  to  observe  his  sloven  dress,  his 
rough,  ill-shaven  chin,  and  I  thought,  after  all,  it 
might  not  be  so  difficult  to  play  his  part  at  the 
Chateau  de  Cheverny — to  cheat  the  Chevalier,  and 
to  worm  the  letters  incriminating  Cardinal  Alberoni 
and  other  intriguers  from  his  possession.  It  would 
have  been  easy  to  kill  Silvain  while  he  lay  insensible  ; 
but  although  I  allowed  my  rapier-point  to  creep 
nearer  and  nearer  to  his  coarse  throat,  my  heart  re- 
fused to  let  me  make  the  thrust.  No,  he  should 
fight  me  in  a  duel  to  the  death  !  Yet  there  was  a 
wondrous  fascination  in  watching  the  bright  ribbon 
of  steel  flash  to  and  fro,  and  quiver  above  Monsieur's 
broad,  heaving  breast.  At  last  he  sighed,  his  eyes 
unclosed,  and  after  I  had  given  him  wine,  he  arose, 
scowling,  and  immediately  tried  to  get  free  his 
sword. 

"  Wait  a  little,  mon  ami  !  "  I  said.  ''  Allow  your 
strength  to  return.  Then  I  will  offer  you  satis- 
faction !  '• 


36        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

He  had  the  grace  to  make  an  elaborate  bow, 
and  I  pushed  the  flask  of  Rousillon  close  to  his 
elbow. 

''  Drink,  Monsieur,"  I  said,  proceeding  with  my 
supper,  and  ma  foi !  in  ten  minutes  the  wine  was 
gone,  and  Silvain,  sinking  back  in  his  chair,  slept. 

Leaning  my  arms  on  the  table,  I  looked  at  him 
and  laughed — he  was  so  strange,  so  grotesque  a  pic- 
ture. Drunken  stupor  lay  heavy  on  his  face — his 
perruque  was  awry,  and  his  Malines  ruffles  were  as 
filthy  as  sin.  He  had  spilt  the  Rousillon  over  his 
soiled  coat  of  white  satin — a  relic,  I  doubt  not,  of 
better  days, — and  the  blood  from  his  mouth  had 
dried  upon  his  chin  and  splashed  his  shirt  crimson. 
An  hour  passed,  the  hostelry  was  silent,  and  some 
neighbouring  clock  tolled  solemnly.     One  !    Two  ! 

I  started.  How  the  time  had  flown  !  Four  hours 
ago  Madame  laDuchesse  was  lying  in  my  arms,  and 
now  here  was  I  w^aiting  for  Silvain  de  Cheverny  to 
awake  that  I  might  take  his  life.  After  a  while  I 
shook  him,  and  he  sufficiently  recovered  his  wits  to 
be  extremely  quarrelsome. 

"  You  insulted  me,  Vicomte  !  "  he  began.  "  I 
demand  satisfaction." 

"You  shall  have  it,  Monsieur."     I  returned.  "Do 
you  prefer  swords?  " 
He  bowed. 


THE  DUEL  AT  NIGHT  37 

"  Yes,  swords,  and  I  hope  to  run  you  through  the 
heart !  " 

I  smiled  contemptuously,  and  Silvain  flew  into  a 
passion. 

"  I'll  spill  your  blood  or  die  !  "  he  snarled,  shaking 
his  fist  in  my  face.  "  Come  outside,  Vicomte,  and  I 
promise  you  the  snow  shall  be  rosy  where  your  body 
falls  !  " 

"  What  if  my  luck  holds  and  yours  proves  false. 
Monsieur?"  I  said,  leaning  against  the  low  mantel 
and  gazing  at  him  with  a  flash  of  laughter  in  my 
eyes. 

"Ah!  "  he  breathed,  and  then  again,  very  softly, 
so  that  it  could  scarce  be  heard — ''  Ah  !  " 

His  face  narrowed,  his  red  orbs  gathered  a  low, 
cunning  gleam  of  the  most  intense  malice,  and  sud- 
denly he  drew  a  dice-box  from  his  pocket. 

*'  M.  le  Vicomte  de  Championnet  !  "  he  mur- 
mured, smiling  horribly,  "  why  should  we  go  out 
upon  the  snow  to  fight  this  duel  ?  ** 

"  I  shall  be  happy,  Monsieur,  to  kill  you  here,"  I 
said. 

"  Let  us  dice  for  our  lives  !  "  he  urged.  "  Three 
throws  each,  and  he  who  throws  highest  shall  take 
his  sword  and  send  it  through  the  loser  !  " 

"  A  cold-blooded  suggestion  !  "  I  reflected. 

"  Are  you  a  coward  ?  "  he  sneered. 


38        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Are  you,  Monsieur  ?  "  I  said,  staring  at  him  till 
his  gaze  fell. 

"  Come,  we  are  wasting  time,"  he  replied.  *'  The 
thought  of  Death  seems  to  frighten  you,  M.  le  Vi- 
comte." 

'*  Not  at  all,  but  I  am  always  on  my  guard  against 
treachery,"  I  flashed  out.  "  Well,  sit  you  down, 
Monsieur  de  Cheverny,  and  stake  your  luck  'gainst 
mine  !  " 

"  You  agree  ?  "  he  cried,  with  evident  delight. 

I  bent  my  head,  and  he  pushed  the  box  across  the 
table. 

''  Nay,  you  shall  throw  first !  "  I  said. 

"  As  you  please,  Vicomte  !  "  he  replied,  rattling 
the  dice,  and  tossing  them  high.  "  There,  by  Saint 
Gris,  I've  thrown  ten  !  " 

''  You  are  certainly  in  luck,"  I  muttered,  taking 
the  box  from  his  quivering  hand. 

"  Be  quick,  mon  ami,  be  quick  !  "  he  cried,  the 
sweat  running  down  his  face. 

"  Only  fools  hurry  !  "  I  remarked  ;  "  and  no  man 
on  earth  ever  hastened  me.  Monsieur  de  Cheverny." 

"  Throw  !  throw  !  "  he  gasped. 

I  obeyed,  and  Silvain  gave  a  little  soft  chuckle  of 
unutterable  rapture. 

"  Seven  !  "  he  cooed,  sweeping  the  dice  again  into 
the  box  and  flinging  them  out  with  a  laugh. 


THE  DUEL  AT  NIGHT  39 

"  Ten  for  the  second  time,"  I  said  ;  "  that  seems 
strange." 

''  Nay,  I  am  winning  fairly,  Vicomte  !  "  he  said, 
flushing  scarlet,  and  drawing  back  his  lips.  "  Do 
you  dare  call  me  cheat  ?  " 

"  Wait  !  "  I  replied,  and  threw  up  the  dice.  They 
came  down  with  a  tinkling  clatter,  and,  rolling  over, 
gave  me  no  more  than  six.  De  Cheverny  shouted 
aloud. 

''  You  appear  extremely  anxious  to  feel  your 
blade  running  into  my  body,  Monsieur,"  I  said, 
"  but  if  I  recollect  aright,  it  was  ever  ready  to  kill 
the  defenceless.  Have  you  forgotten  the  night  when 
you  met  Mademoiselle  Crespigny  and  the  Comte  de 
Murat  by  Notre  Dame  ?  Ah  !  3^ou  were  fortunate 
in  escaping  from  Paris  after  that  double  murder. 
You  fled  to  England,  I  believe  ?  But  why  did  you 
return,  my  dear  de  Cheverny  ?  Nay,  do  not  rise  ; 
we  must  conclude  our  game  of  Death  with  these 
dice.     It  is  your  throw  !  " 

His  face  was  grey  with  passion,  and  the  great 
veins  sprang  up  like  red  weals  leaping  under  the  lash 
of  a  whip.  He  stretched  forth  both  his  hands  to- 
wards my  throat,  his  fingers  working  like  the  claws 
of  an  angry  bear,  his  eyes  sparkling  like  jets  of  fire, 
and  I  sprang  to  my  feet,  or  he  would  have  choked 
my  life  out  as  soon  as  not.     Finding  me  wary,  he 


40       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

ripped  the  rapier  from  his  side  and  made  a  thrust 
at  my  body  across  the  table. 

"  I  want  your  blood  !  "  he  hissed,  and,  leaning  for- 
ward, spat  in  my  face. 

This  insult  counterbalanced  mine  so  completely, 
that  I  had  a  thirsty  longing  to  see  the  rascal  die, 
but  I  was  too  old  a  duellist  to  risk  a  fight  in  the 
hostelry.  Beating  down  Monsieur  Silvain's  lunges, 
I  bade  him  accompany  me  to  a  secluded  spot,  clear 
of  Pontigny,  and  he  was  scarcely  so  drunk  with 
madness  as  to  be  utterly  blind  to  the  wisdom  of  my 
admonition.  Throwing  open  the  door,  he  lurched 
out  into  the  snow,  and  pulling  on  my  boots  and 
snatching  a  lanthorn  from  the  porch,  I  followed  him 
through  the  silent,  sleeping  village.  Save  for  de 
Cheverny's  curses  and  the  muffled  tramping  of  our 
feet,  absolute  stillness  reigned,  and  one  solitary 
light  glittered  from  the  hostelry  V^q  a  dancing, 
crimson  star. 

When  Silvain  came  to  a  stand  by  a  little  glade,  I 
congratulated  him  very  courteously  upon  his  choice 
of  ground,  and  as  I  set  down  the  lanthorn,  and  com- 
menced to  pull  off  my  coat,  my  mind  went  a-wan- 
dering  to  Madame  la  Duchesse.  Amid  my  strong 
passionate  memories  of  her  charm  and  loveliness, 
the  bloody,  inevitable  duel  faded  away  from  my 
thoughts,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  was  stripped 


THE  DUEL  AT  NIGHT  41 

and  the  cold  wind  biting-  my  face  and  breast  before 
my  dreamy  vision  of  Madame  passed,  and  de  Che- 
verny's  presence  reminded  me  that  for  her  sake  I 
must  take  his  Hfe.  While  I  gazed  at  him,  the  old 
swash-buckling  fascination  of  staking  my  blood  on 
a  twirl  of  my  rapier  got  hold  of  me  again,  and,  with 
the  unconquered  duellist's  wicked  joy,  I  laughed 
quietl}^ — why,  I  know  not, — and  whipped  the  keen 
air  with  my  whistling  blade  until  it  flashed  and 
glimmered  like  a  stream  of  fire. 

Around  the  sparkling  ribbon  of  turf  on  which  we 
stood,  a  fringe  of  snow-powdered  firs  and  brambles 
rustled  in  the  wind,  and  through  these  crept  the 
moonrays  to  play  in  golden  circles  round  our  feet. 
A  little  distance  from  Silvain  was  the  lanthorn,  and 
I  remember  how  the  bright,  steady  glow  clung  to 
his  evil  face,  and  changed  his  shirt  from  dirty-white 
to  scarlet. 

While  we  waited,  a  hare  limped  trembhng  past, 
halting  an  instant  in  his  fright,  and  the  gay  chal- 
lenge of  a  stag  came  rolling  up  the  valley.  Once 
more  silence  fell.  De  Cheverny  was  shivering,  and 
as  I  bared  my  right  arm  and  slipped  forward  to  en- 
gage him,  I  noted  that  his  eyes  were  no  longer  full 
of  fire,  but  had  turned  to  a  lustrous,  glittering  green. 
I  was  wondering  whether  I  looked  so  fierce— so  wolf- 
ish as  he,  when  our  blades  met,  and  for  a  moment 


42        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

he  pressed  me  hard  with  some  swift,  low  lunges  in 
a  manner  surprisingly  fine.  Pardieu  !  I  give  you 
my  word  that  his  first  assault  drove  me  back,  step 
by  step,  until  my  old  famous  upper-thrust,  flashing 
like  a  streak  of  flame  over  his  guard,  made  him 
recollect  he  was  dealing  with  Audran  de  Cliampion- 
net. 

We  were  shifting  our  position  rapidly — sometimes 
the  brilliant  moonbeams  would  be  glimmering  on 
my  face,  sometimes  on  de  Cheverny's,  and  at  every 
quick  movement  my  spurs  sent  the  snow  spurting 
upward  in  miniature  showers.  It  was  a  beautiful 
duel,  and  all  the  time  I  kept  wondering  where  I 
should  pink  Silvain  first.  He  panted  like  a  stag, 
but  came  upon  me  with  such  excellent  spirit  that  I 
w^as  loth  to  kill  him  in  a  hurry.  Lunge  !  lunge  ! 
lunge  !  He  stuck  at  it  until  his  arm  tired,  and  I 
asked  him  whether  he  would  like  a  breather.  The 
fool  took  my  question  as  the  bitterest  insult,  though 
he  was  now  as  sober  as  myself. 

*'  You  dog  !  you  coward  !  "  he  gasped.  "  Do  you 
want  to  run  away  ?  " 

''  Nay,  I  am  not  a  thief  who  steals  horses  !  "  I 
replied,  lightly  tripping  back  and  whirling  his 
thrusts  aside,  when  he  re-engaged  me  with  fresh 
fury.  "  The  chestnut  mare  you  filched  from  the 
shed  by  the  crossroads   belongs  to   me,   Monsieur, 


THE  DUEL  AT  NIGHT  43 

and  I  call  you  a  low  thief !     Do  you  hear  ?    A  thief 
and  a  murderer  !  " 

He  uttered  a  cry  which  trailed  into  the  snarl  of  a 
wolf,  and  breaking  through  my  guard  by  a  magnifi- 
cent lunge,  the  rogue  nearly  drew  first  blood,  for 
I  felt  his  blade  tear  a  long  rent  in  my  shirt.  Next 
breath  I  gave  him  my  point  in  his  shoulder,  and 
fetched  forth  from  his  lips  a  lingering  howl  of  rage. 

We  were  fighting  desperately,  and,  by  Saint 
Aignan,  Monsieur  de  Cheverny  displayed  a  rash 
valour  that  forced  me  to  admire  his  daring  mode  of 
attack,  his  careless  bravado,  and  his  extraordinary 
tenacity.  But  hate  strengthens  even  a  strong  arm, 
and  Silvain  loathed  me  with  a  passion  akin  to  mad- 
ness. His  staring  eyes,  red  in  the  lanthorn-glow, 
green  in  the  moon-rays,  were  for  ever  fixed  on  mine, 
and  so  superb  were  his  swift,  low  lunges  that  twice 
he  nearly  won  my  life.  Then  of  a  sudden  I  slipped, 
and  here  the  rascal's  iniquity  was  revealed  in  all  its 
nakedness,  for  'fore  I  could  recover  he  leapt  for- 
ward with  the  dash  of  a  tiger,  and  had  I  not  shown 
marvellous  fencing,  he  would  have  stabbed  me  with- 
out hesitation  where  I  lay.  But  somehow  I  stag- 
gered again  to  my  feet  just  as  the  moon,  mounting 
higher,  shone  full  on  his  face,  and  parrying  thrice, 
I  made  a  demi-volte,  and  as  his  blade  shot  like  a 
streak  of  light  past  my  ear,  I  ran  him  through  the 


44       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

neck  !  He  threw  his  arms  wide,  a  gush  of  blood 
flashed  over  his  broad,  heaving  breast,  crimsoning 
his  shirt  from  throat  to  waist  ;  then  he  swayed, 
gasped  two  or  three  times,  and  clapping  both  hands 
to  the  wound,  spun  slowly  round,  and  sank  down 
upon  the  snow. 

Mon  Dieu,  what  a  deathly  silence  reigned  !  And 
how  bitter  the  night  had  grown !  I  cleansed  my 
rapier,  and  returned  it  to  the  sheath,  slipped  on  my 
coat,  and  then,  remembering  I  was  no  longer  the 
Vicomte  de  Championnet  but  Silvain  de  Cheverny, 
I  bent  over  my  victim,  dragged  one  reddened  hand 
from  his  throat,  and  robbed  the  stiff  fingers  of  four 
rings,  among  them  the  signet  mentioned  by  M.  le 
Due  d'Orleans,  bearing  the  arms  of  the  old  Cheva- 
lier. Then  I  searched  his  person,  and  fetched  forth 
some  papers  and  a  small  jewelled  locket,  held  by  a 
golden  chain.  These  things  I  thrust  into  my 
pockets,  and  carefully  removing  his  linen,  I  arrayed 
him  in  my  own  shirt,  with  the  name  ''Audran  de 
Championnet  "  embroidered  on  the  shoulder.  The 
shirt  was  old,  and  my  mother  had  spent  many  an 
hour  over  that  silken  embroidery,  but  there  are 
times  when  one  forgets  a  mother's  love,  even  when 
she  is  in  heaven,  and  this  was  no  night  for  wasting 
moments  by  soliloquy  or  regret. 

I  was  a  man  :  I  had  a  purpose,  and  was  deter- 


THE  DUEL  AT  NIGHT  45 

mined  that  naught  on  earth  should  alter  it,  though 
when  I  bent  down  to  strip  Monsieur  de  Cheverny, 
and  saw  that  the  sweat  on  his  face  had  frozen  to 
ice  and  glittered  like  a  mask  of  crystal — when  I 
found  that  the  blood  on  his  breast  was  hard  and 
slippery  as  glass — when  I  twirled  my  handkerchief 
around  his  throat  to  hide  the  ghastly  wound,  I  was 
seized  with  a  great  horror,  and  for  the  first  time 
since  my  childhood  I  tasted  fear.  My  soul  turned 
sick  within  me  while  I  exchanged  perruques,  and 
rapiers,  and  money  with  the  Thing  that  lay  so  still 
upon  the  snow,  until  I  was  assured  that  when  the 
body  was  found  all  Paris  would  ring  with  the  news 
that  M.  le  Vicomte  de  Championnet  had  been 
killed  in  a  duel  at  Pontigny. 

Silvain's  face,  now  tranquil  in  death,  certainly 
might  easily  be  mistaken  for  mine,  and  I  cherished 
high  hopes  of  my  fraud,  while  I  dressed  myself  in 
one  or  two  of  Monsieur  da  Cheverny's  garments  by 
the  glow  of  the  lanthorn  until  my  disguise  and  his 
were  complete  ;  and  then  I  hastened  back  to  the 
hostelry  as  though  the  Devil  were  on  my  trail. 
And  I  doubt  not  that  he  was. 

The  light  in  the  chamber  was  dim,  and  snatching 
up  my  cloak,  I  ran  out  again  Into  the  brilliant  night 
—all  radiant  with  stars,  and  the  golden  glory  of  the 
full,  yellow  moon.     Stealing  to  the  shed,  I  led  forth 


46       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

M.  le  Due's  chestnut  mare,  and  swiftly  bridling  her, 
I  leapt  to  the  saddle  and  sped  lightly  down  the 
road.  Sometimes  her  hoofs  made  a  sound  as  of 
distant  thunder  where  the  snow  was  thick  and  pow- 
dery— sometimes  they  rang  on  ice  like  chiming  bells, 
very  loud  and  extraordinarily  musical,  and  the  keen 
wind  cut  me  to  the  bone.  I  rode  on  and  on,  and 
so  the  night  passed. 


CHAPTER  V 

CHEVERNY 

It  was  a  far  journey  to  Cheverny,  and  most  of 
the  time  I  was  riding  through  light  snowstorms,  and 
longing  to  gain  the  shelter  of  the  chateau  ;  for  now 
I  had  killed  Silvain  I  was  ripe  for  any  fresh  rascality 
which  might  come  in  my  way.  There  was  the 
Chevalier  to  fool !  Well,  that  must  be  done,  and  I 
think  I  may  say  I  was  a  man  of  wit — of  resource — 
of  extremely  cool  insolence  and  easy  address,  so  a 
fear  of  detection  and  inglorious  exposure  never  so 
much  as  entered  my  mind.  No,  I  rode  along  with 
a  calm,  even  resolution  to  go  through  my  task 
and  win  Madame  la  Duchesse  at  all  costs.  And 
undoubtedly  Madame  was  worth  the  winning.  I 
hungered  for  her,  and  when  the  Chateau  de  Che- 
verny came  in  sight  I  swore  that  I  would  play  the 
liar  and  the  traitor  well.  Below  me,  as  I  drew  rein 
on  the  bosom  of  the  hill,  lay  a  small  straggling 
village,  compassed  about  by  woods,  and  cut  in 
twain  by  a  glittering,  silvery  stream.     The  chateau, 

47 


48        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

low,  irregular,  and  quaintly  gabled,  crouched  at  the 
head  of  the  valley,  and  I  gazed  long  upon  it  before 
proceeding  on  my  way.  In  the  centre  of  the  village 
stood  a  smithy,  and  a  man  lurking  about  the  door 
opened  his  eyes,  as  I  passed,  with  the  most  intense 
interest. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  friend  ?  "  I  cried,  wag- 
ging my  head  at  him.  ''  One  would  think  you  saw 
a  ghost !  " 

"  Mille  diables,  it  is  Monsieur  Silvain  !  "  he  mut- 
tered. '*  He  is  come  back  again  !  "  And,  laughing 
loudly,  I  rode  on,  excellently  pleased.  "  Come,"  I 
soliloquised,  "this  promises  to  develop  into  a  su- 
perb jest.  If  these  louts  take  me  for  Silvain  de 
Cheverny,  why  should  not  the  Chevalier  likewise 
fall  under  the  same  misapprehension  ?  " 

And  when  the  lodge-keeper  at  the  chateau  exhib- 
ited a  similar  surprise,  I  was  still  further  encouraged 
and  delighted.  Yet  I  noted  that  these  men 
showed  no  pleasure  at  my  arrival.  They  did  not 
rush  forward  with  a  warm  welcome  or  a  cheery 
word,  neither  did  their  faces  lighten  ;  so  I  judged 
Monsieur  Silvain  had  been  anything  but  beloved  by 
the  country-folk  of  Cheverny.  One  or  two  grooms 
and  some  maids  appeared  as  I  rattled  into  the  court- 
yard of  the  chateau,  all  gazing  curiously  at  me ; 
and,  sliding  from  the  saddle,  I  flung  the  reins  to  a 


CHEVERNY  49 

stable-boy  and  bade  him  take  good  care  of  M.  le 
Due's  mare.  Then,  bracing  my  heart  high,  I  swung 
around  to  the  terrace,  and  banged  upon  the  great 
entrance  door  as  though  'twere  already  my  own. 
A  man  dressed  in  a  Hvery  of  cream  and  claret  ad- 
mitted me,  and  I  gave  him  my  cloak  and  hat. 

**  Where  is  M.  le  Chevalier?"  I  cried. 

**  In  his  room.  Monsieur  Silvain,"  replied  the 
servant. 

'*Ah,  you  know  me,  then!"  I  replied.  ''How 
long  is  it  since  I  left  Cheverny?" 

"  Ten  years,  Monsieur." 

"  Ten  years  !  How  time  flies  !  "  I  reflected. 
"  You  say  the  Chevalier  is  in  his  room.  Lead  me 
to  him  !  " 

I  followed  the  man  up  a  broad,  massive  stair,  then 
through  a  magnificent  corridor  hung  with  some  very 
choice  portraits,  and  halted  at  his  heels  by  a  little 
curtained  door.  From  within  came  the  noise  of  a 
devil  of  a  racket,  and,  catching  the  man's  sleeve,  I 
twirled  him  around  before  he  could  enter. 

''  What's  doing  here  ?  "  I  whispered.  "  A  duel,  a 
melee  with  swords,  or  a  drunken  carousal  ?  " 

**  Monsieur,"  he  replied,  "  it  is  cocks." 

**  Cocks?"  I  gasped. 

"  Yes,  Monsieur  ;  they  are  fighting." 

And   I   stood  rooted  to  the  floor  in  my  amaze- 


so        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

ment.  The  din  was  so  deafening  that  M.  le  Che- 
valier's man  stopped  his  ears  ;  and,  gently  opening 
the  door,  I  thrust  aside  the  hangings  and  peeped  in. 
Ma  foi  !  what  a  sight  met  my  eyes  !  The  Chevalier 
de  Cheverny,  propped  and  supported  by  cushions 
and  pillows,  sat  in  his  bed,  beating  the  air  with  his 
fists  and  swearing  in  a  manner  that  astonished  me. 
I  had  heard  Monsieur  the  Regent  rattle  off  a  fine 
string  of  oaths,  and  Dubois  curse  until  he  choked — 
I  had  listened  to  M.  le  Due  de  Brancas  while  he 
swore  in  three  tongues ;  but,  on  my  soul,  never  did 
I  hearken  to  such  a  flame  of  white-hot  blasphemy  as 
shot  from  the  lips  of  M.  le  Chevalier. 

His  high-toned,  delicate  voice  was  all  of  a  quiver 
with  passion  ;  his  small  light  eyes  darted  fire ;  and 
his  singularly  beautiful  face,  though  pale  as  marble, 
streamed  with  sweat ;  while  his  lean  body,  dressed 
in  a  blue  and  yellow  night-robe,  seemed  to  be  writh- 
ing like  a  python.  Upon  his  head  was  set  a  crim- 
son cap,  and  a  few  wisps  of  silvery  hair  strayed  over 
his  brow  or  crept  down  around  his  ears.  Beyond 
all  doubt,  the  Chevalier  de  Cheverny  was  an 
extremely  striking  and  remarkable  personage,  and 
the  more  he  cursed  and  raved  the  greater  became 
my  wonder  that  so  eminently-refined  a  gentleman 
in  appearance  should  descend  to  the  language  of  the 
canaille,  and  revel  in  such  peculiar  sport. 


CHEVERNY  51 

In  the  centre  of  the  room,  on  a  strip  of  rich  Al- 
giers carpet,  two  cocks  were  fighting  furiously, 
and  behind  each  knelt  a  valet,  one  in  the  de  Che- 
verny  livery,  and  the  other  arrayed  in  crimson  and 
daffodil.  Opposite  the  Chevalier,  and  standing  with 
his  legs  thrown  wide  apart,  was  a  gentleman  whose 
fascinating  countenance  and  delightful  demeanor 
might  have  won  any  woman's  heart,  or  man's  either, 
for  that  matter,  and  I  felt  a  wonderful  admiration 
towards  him  as  I  gazed  upon  his  face,  full  of  a  reck- 
less humour — a  wealth  of  courage  and  a  strength 
which  in  some  gifted  natures  underlies  a  mask  of 
frivolity  hard  to  dispel.  He  was  tall  and  slim,  ex- 
traordinarily handsome,  with  a  pair  of  big  bright 
eyes  that  danced  like  diamonds,  and  while  I  stared 
at  him  the  longing  to  feel  his  rapier  grind  against 
mine  came  into  my  heart,  and  I  knew  that  here  was 
one  worthy  to  engage  the  best  duellist  in  France. 

I  would  have  sworn  Monsieur  could  fence — his 
pose,  his  lithe,  swinging  movements — his  quick, 
flashing  glance,  revealed  to  the  imaginative  eye  a 
very  finished  swordsman,  and  the  longer  I  watched 
him  the  greater  grew  my  admiration  for  his  magnifi- 
cent presence  and  inimitable  geniality.  He  was 
young :  he  wore  his  own  hair,  of  a  rich  chestnut 
colour  ;  his  coat  was  of  purple  velvet,  his  vest  of 
cream  and  rose,  his  breeches  of  white   satin,  and  at 


52        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

his  side  huni^  a  beautiful  rapier  in  a  sheath  of  scar- 
let leather.  Glancing  down  at  my  own  rags,  I 
flushed  with  shame  to  see  my  poverty,  then  laughed 
low,  and  listened  to  the  betting  on  the  fighting- 
cocks,  that  sprang  and  fluttered  and  warred  upon 
the  Algiers  rug  until  the  floor  was  strewn  with 
feathers  and  spattered  with  blood. 

The  face  of  the  valet  in  crimson  and  daffodil,  as 
he  shuffled  around  on  his  hands  and  knees,  making 
a  queer  clucking  noise  to  encourage  the  birds,  was 
something  to  see,  and  long  'fore  I  knew  his  master's 
name  I  guessed  the  fellow  was  an  Englishman. 

"  A  hundred  louis  on  Zozime,  M.  le  Marquis !  " 
cried  the  Chevalier. 

*'  Two  on  Saint  Peter  !  "  replied  the  stranger. 
"  Burn  my  blood,  Chevalier,  you  like  your  stakes 
high !  *' 

"  Zozime  wins — he  wins !  I  will  lay  three  on 
him !  "  screamed  de  Cheverny.  "  Will  you  make 
the  bets  even  ?  " 

"  No,  damned  if  I  do.  Saint  Peter  is  getting 
stripped  ! "  cried  M.  le  Marquis,  fanning  his  face 
with  a  handkerchief  of  Alen^on  lace,  which  diffused 
a  thick  perfume  of  mingled  jasmine  and  Parma 
violet.  "  His  breast  feathers  are  gone,  but  the  old 
devil  is  game,  and  so  he'll  die.  Well,  'tis  a  gentle- 
man's death,  and  I  wish  for  no  better  myself ! " 


CHEVERNY  S3 

"  Stand  in  my  path  and  you  shall  have  it,  M.  le 
Marquis  !  "  I  murmured,  'neath  my  breath,  for 
somehow  the  swift  thought  tore  at  my  heart  that 
this  man  might  be  my  foe,  and  that  in  fooHng  the 
ChevaHer  I  should  also  have  to  deal  with  his  bril- 
liant guest.  Well,  there  is  no  stopping  the  wheel 
of  fate,  and  shrugging  my  shoulders  with  the  old 
careless  nonchalance  which  has  always  proved  my 
truest  comrade,  I  let  my  left  hand  fall  limp,  and 
patted  my  rapier  caressingly. 

The  birds  fought  on  amid  bets  and  laughter,  and 
curses,  and  the  spirit  of  the  gambler  within  me  gave 
my  soul  no  rest,  and  I  had  a  great  thirst  to  lay  all  I 
possessed  on  the  black  and  scarlet  cock  named 
Zozime. 

"  My  Saint  Peter  is  himself  again,  and,  by  the 
Heaven  above  me,  he'll  win  yet,  M.  le  Chevalier ! " 
cried  the  Marquis.  ''  Five  hundred  louis  to  three 
that  he  gives  the  death-stroke  !  " 

''  Six  hundred  on  Zozime,"  said  the  Chevalier. 
"  Look,  Monsieur,  your  bird's  wing  seems  broken. 
Ah,  now  we  shall  see  the  end  of  it  ! " 

The  black  and  scarlet  cock  was  prowling  around 
Saint  Peter,  his  head  held  low,  his  claws  gripping 
the  Algiers  rug,  and  both  wings  raised  a  little  above 
his  back  ;  while  the  other  bird,  clucking  ferociously, 
stood  on  one  leg,  his  right  spur  tucked  close  to  his 


54       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

breast,  awaiting  the  chance  to  strike.  It  soon  came. 
Zozime  flew  high  and  descended  with  a  splutter  of 
fury  upon  his  enemy ;  but  Saint  Peter  fluttered 
aside,  escaping  with  a  deep  scratch  in  the  neck,  from 
which  blood  flowed  freely. 

"  Damn  !  "  cried  the  Marquis,  and  the  Chevalier 
gave  a  low,  rippling  chuckle,  stretching  forth  his 
hands  and  clawing  the  air  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 

I  could  restrain  myself  no  longer. 

'' Ten  louis  on  M.  le  Chevalier's  cock  !  "  I  shouted, 
springing  into  the  chamber,  and  at  that  very  moment 
Zozime  ran  recklessly  in,  and  Saint  Peter,  hovering 
above  him,  swooped  down  like  a  falcon,  and  split 
his  head  apart  with  a  blow  that  sounded  as  a  pebble 
thrown  against  glass. 

"  Mon  Dieu,  you  have  won  !  "  cried  the  Chevalier. 

"Yes,  I  have  won,"  said  M.  le  Marquis,  and  then 
all  eyes  were  turned  on  me.  Those  of  de  Cheverny 
glittered  like  crystal — a  smile  played  across  his  thin 
lips,  and  without  exhibiting  the  slightest  surprise 
he  welcomed  me  in  a  manner  neither  cold  nor 
warm. 

**  It  is  Silvain  !  "  he  remarked,  as  though  his 
nephew  were  no  stranger.  "  Monsieur  de  Cheverny  : 
Monsieur  le  Marquis  de  Merivale  !  " 

I  bowed,  the  Marquis  acknowledged  my  courtesy 
with  great  elegance,  and  this  was  our  introduction 


CHEVERNY  55 

beneath  the  roof  of  the  chateau,  which  in  time,  if  I 
played  my  cards  aright,  might  be  my  own.  Before 
me  lay  the  dead  bird  on  which  I  had  staked  my  ten 
louis,  and  M.  le  Chevalier's  valet  busied  himself  in 
scraping  together  the  scattered  feathers  that  littered 
the  chamber  from  end  to  end,  while  M.  le  Marquis 
favoured  his  man  with  a  string  of  instructions  which 
turned  me  dizzy. 

"  Michael,"  he  said,  "  you  may  take  Saint  Peter 
away,  give  him  a  few  grains  of  the  white  powder, 
wash  his  wounds,  bind  up  his  wing,  anoint  him  with 
balsam,  then  make  him  swallow  a  few  drops  of 
brandy  and  put  him  into  the  box  lined  with  white 
silk.  Do  not  leave  him  for  one  moment  until  I  come 
to  relieve  you,  and,  with  the  Chevalier's  permission, 
I  will  have  him  removed  to  my  room,  that  I  may  be 
able  to  glance  at  him  once  or  twice  every  hour  dur- 
ing the  night.  I  could  not,  I  fear,  exhibit  a  similar 
devotion  towards  a  wife,  but  then  a  wife  is  not  a 
fighting-cock.  Wait  a  moment,  Michael ;  you  seem 
in  the  devil  of  a  hurry,"  rattled  on  M.  le  Marquis, 
taking  his  bird  from  the  valet  and  examining  the 
wounds  through  a  quizzing-glass.  "  God  help  me, 
I  forgot  to  mention  that  among  my  shirts  you  will 
discover  a  soothing  powder  recommended  by  Lucon 
of  London.  It  must  be  given  the  cock  at  once,  and 
when  he  is  safe  in  his  box  be  careful  to  place  a  small 


56        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

glass  of  liqueur  brandy  at  the  right-hand  corner. 
Dilute  it  with  water.  I  have  known  Saint  Peter 
turn  a  calm  night  into  a  bacchanalian  carousal  after 
a  victory  of  this  kind.  Take  him  and  go  !  M.  le 
Chevalier,  I  have  enjoyed  a  very  delightful  hour, 
and  I  hope  to  heaven  Mademoiselle  Aur^lie  may 
not  hear  of  it.  By  my  pure  soul,  she  has  caught 
us! 

"  Yes,  I  have  caught  you,  M.  le  Marquis  !  At 
your  old  sport  again  !  How  dare  you  disobey  my 
commands?  How  dare  you  force  cocks  to  fight  in 
my  father's  chamber — you  and  your  friends  ?  It  is 
shameful,  and,  by  Sainte  Marie,  I've  more  than  half 
a  mind  to  make  you  all  smart  for  your  pleasure  !  " 
and  the  lash  of  a  man's  riding-whip  hissed  perilousty 
near  the  Marquis  de  Merivale's  shoulders  and  then 
flicked  out  at  the  grinning  visage  of  the  old  Cheva- 
lier, who  swiftly  dived  under  the  coverlet  ;  while 
the  valets,  laughing  from  ear  to  ear,  darted  away 
through  the  door  as  Mademoiselle  made  a  pretence 
of  cutting  at  their  calves. 

Pardieu,  never  in  my  life  had  I  seen  so  superb  a 
girl !  As  she  stood  there  in  her  magnificent  passion, 
beating  the  air  with  her  whip  and  stamping  one 
little  foot  at  the  Chevalier  and  M.  le  Marquis,  I 
found  leisure  to  drink  in  her  extraordinary  beauty, 
and   to  wonder   at    the    delightful  abandon  of  her 


CHEVERNY  57 

supple,  perfect  form.  She  was  dressed  in  a  white 
riding-habit,  slashed  across  the  bosom  with  scarlet 
and  silver,  and  a  trifle  the  worse  for  wear  and  tear  ; 
her  hat  clung  jauntily  to  a  head  that  rippled  with 
short,  russet-gold  hair,  and  her  face,  browned  by  a 
life's  revelling  amid  heaven's  winds  and  sun-rays, 
and  warmed  now  by  the  keen  sting  of  winter,  was 
full  of  a  charm  that  crept  into  a  man's  heart  like  a 
thief  in  the  night.  Her  brilliant  eyes,  though  iolite 
in  hue,  were  almost  irridescent  in  their  passion, 
and  her  crimson  lips  beyond  description  as  they 
parted,  showed  her  little  gleaming  teeth  that 
grinded  very  prettily  all  the  while. 

"■  Sacre  !  "  I  murmured,  "  the  husband  who  could 
master  her  would  be  hard  to  find.  Madame  la  Du- 
chesse  has  a  great  spirit,  but  Mademoiselle  Aurelie 
is  the  devil  of  a  woman  !  " 

M.  le  Marquis  allowed  her  temper  to  cool,  smiling 
and  bowing  with  exasperating  imperturbability  ; 
and  then  she  swung  round  on  me,  still  cracking  her 
whip,  and  surveyed  me  as  though  she  wondered  why 
I  met  her  gaze  so  well. 

*'  It  is  really  too  bad  of  you,  Messieurs  !  "  she 
said.  ''  My  father  is  in  no  fit  state  to  see  cocks  fight, 
though  I'll  swear  he's  the  worst  of  the  three.  And 
what  men  can  see  in  such  sport,  Heaven  only  knows  ! 
This  mess  of  feathers — these  splashes  of  blood — 


58        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

faugh,  'tis  maddening !  Will  this  gentleman  dine 
with  us  to-night?"  she  inquired,  turning  swiftly  on 
the  Chevalier. 

'*  My  angel,  it  is  Silvain ! "  cooed  M.  le  Chevalier, 
from  amid  his  pillows.  "  Of  course  he  will  dine 
with  us  !     He  is  our  guest." 

"  Aurelie  !  "  I  muttered,  glancing  perplexedly 
around,  and  then  my  lips  were  sealed.  She  ap- 
proached, quivering  with  passion,  and  I  should 
scarcely  have  been  surprised  had  she  spat  in  my  face. 

''  My  nephew  Silvain ;  my  daughter  Aurelie," 
murmured  the  Chevalier,  in  his  soft,  mocking  tones. 
*'  Don't  you  remember  one  another?  You  used  to 
be  such  lovers  once  on  a  time ! " 

And  then  I  knew  that  Aurelie  loathed  the  very 
name  of  Silvain  de  Cheverny. 

*'  Yes,"  she  said,  "  I  remember  him.  M.  le  Mar- 
quis, did  you  bring  this  man  here?  " 

"  Mademoiselle,  I  made  his  acquaintance  at  the 
will  of  M.  le  Chevalier,"  returned  the  Englishman, 
laughing  across  the  room  at  me,  and  at  that  instant 
a  little  moan  came  from  betwixt  the  teeth  of  M.  de 
Cheverny  :  he  commenced  to  shudder,  and  Aurelie's 
face,  cleansed  of  all  passion,  might  have  been  that 
of  a  saint  as  she  sprang  to  the  bed,  and,  stooping, 
lifted  the  old  man's  body  in  her  strong  young  arms, 
and  made  his  white  cheek  rest  against  her  own. 


CHEVERNY  59 

"  Fetch  me  the  red  phial,  M.  le  Marquis !  "  she 
whispered,  stretching  out  one  hand.  *'  Be  quick ! 
Now  open  his  lips  and  pour  a  few  drops  down  his 
throat.  Ten  thousand  thanks!  Do  not  allow  your 
cocks  to  fight  again  in  this  chamber.  The  excite- 
ment was  too  much.  He  is  old — and  my  father. 
Promise  me,  Monsieur ;  you  are  a  man  of  honour  and 
a  gentleman  ! " 

"  Mademoiselle,  rather  than  this  had  happened,  I 
would  have  lost  my  right  hand,"  said  the  Marquis. 
'*  Is  there  aught  else  I  can  do  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  ;  her  hat  fell  to  the  floor,  and  a 
long  stream  of  wintry  sunlight,  stealing  through  the 
mullioned  window,  touched  her  hair  with  rippling, 
sparkling  gold,  and  her  great  eyes  were  iolite  again, 
and  shone  like  bright,  soft  stars. 

"  Leave  us,  Monsieur!  "  she  murmured,  and,  bow- 
ing with  exquisite  grace,  M.  le  Marquis  de  Merivale 
quitted  the  room.  I  did  not  follow  him,  but  leaned 
negligently  against  the  wall,  watching  Mademoiselle 
as  she  drew  the  Chevalier's  head  still  closer  to  her 
face,  unconscious  of  my  presence. 


CHAPTER  VI 

MADEMOISELLE   SHOWS   HER   TEETH 

"  Mademoiselle  Aurelie  !  "  I  softly  murmured, 
and  then  again,  a  little  more  distinctly — "  Made- 
moiselle! " 

She  turned  upon  me  like  a  flash  of  light. 

"  What  do  you  here  ?  "  she  said,  her  words  falling 
on  my  ear  as  cold  and  stinging  as  hailstones.  **  I 
know  you  could  not  be  a  gentleman  if  you  tried, 
Monsieur  Silvain,  and  delicacy  was  never  one  of 
your  virtues ;  yet  you  might,  at  the  least,  have  fol- 
lowed M.  le  Marquis  from  the  chamber.  But  what 
can  one  expect  of  you  ?  " 

I  saw  her  lip  curl  maddeningly,  and  there  was  some- 
thing in  her  face  that  lashed  me  like  a  thong  and 
made  me  shrink  as  though  I  had  been  whipped  to 
overwhelming  shame. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  I  stammered,  **  you  are  hard  on 

me.     You  do  not  treat  me  as  a  kinsman.     I  stayed 

to  beg  your  friendship,  and  you  offer  me   nothing 

but  insult." 
60 


MADEMOISELLE  SHOWS  HER  TEETH      6i 

"  And  what  of  yourself?"  she  flashed  out,  laying 
the  Chevalier's  silvery  head  back  among  the  pillows. 
**  You  are  my  cousin,  and  you  are  heir  to  Cheverny, 
but  that  does  not  make  me  hate  you  less.  And 
your  proper  place  is  the  Bastille,  Monsieur." 

''  I  have  come  from  the  Bastille,"  I  replied. 
"  Here  is  my  pardon,  signed  by  the  Regent.  I  am 
a  free  man,  Mademoiselle,  and  because  in  a  fit  of 
mad  passion  I  killed  M.  le  Comte  de  Murat  and 
Mademoiselle  Crespigny,  who  played  me  false,  there 
is  no  reason  for  you  to  imagine  me  altogether  a 
villain." 

*'  You  were  always  that ! "  she  said,  picking  up 
her  hat  and  tossing  it  into  a  corner  of  the  room,  and 
I  began  to  see  how  intense  was  her  loathing  for 
Monsieur  Silvain.  I  needed  all  my  tact,  my  wit, 
and  my  quickness  of  resource  to  keep  pace  with 
Mademoiselle  when  she  ran  back  over  ground  on 
which  I  had  never  travelled,  and  reminded  me  of 
certain  early  episodes  wherein  Silvain  figured  largely 
in  arrogance — in  detestable  cruelty  and  in  merciless 
pride ;  and  from  her  lips  I  gathered  more  of  his  real 
character  than  I  had  ever  hoped  to  glean.  She 
judged  him  by  her  girlish  recollections,  and  the  ten 
long  years  that  had  rolled  away  had  burned  the 
remembrance  of  his  wickedness  and  folly  upon  her 
brain  and  heart.     It  was  somewhat  hard,  even  for 


62        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

me,  to  play  the  part  of  so  great  a  rascal,  but  I  threw 
myself  into  a  reflex  of  his  personality  with  such  a 
will  that,  by  my  soul's  salvation,  at  times  I  almost 
forgot  I  was  the  Vicomte  de  Championnet  and 
cringed  at  Mademoiselle's  scorn  in  a  manner  which 
I  doubt  not  caused  her  vast  satisfaction. 

"  I  have  never  forgotten  how  you  served  the  stag 
that  day  down  by  the  old  well !  "  she  mused. 

"■  Nor  I.     Believe  me,  I  have  utterly  repented." 

''And  the  old  blind  man — Antoine  Coudray — 
bah !  the  very  thought  of  your  cruelty  makes  me 
shudder." 

*'  Mademoiselle,  you  are  pitiless." 

"  As  you  were  to  him !  "  she  cried,  with  fine  con- 
tempt. "  Monsieur  Silvain,  do  not  try  to  whitewash 
your  reputation.  It  would  crumble  at  the  first 
touch  of  your  brush.  It  is  enough  humiliation  for 
me  to  realise  that  you  are  here,  and  that  I  must 
offer  you  hospitality." 

I  bowed,  and  a  little  soft  laugh  sounded  from  the 
bed.  M.  le  Chevalier's  eyes  were  wide  open,  and 
he  had  heard  every  word. 

"  Aurelie,  you  shame  me  !  "  he  said,  a  deep,  wicked 
smile  cutting  his  venerable  face  into  a  thousand 
wrinkles.  "  I  command  you  to  receive  Silvain  at 
Cheverny  as  an  honoured  guest.  His  Highness  the 
Regent  has  pardoned  him," 


MADEMOISELLE  SHOWS  HER  TEETH      (y^ 

"■  His  Highness  the  Regent  would  pardon  the 
devil !  "  returned  Mademoiselle,  glancing  at  me  as 
though  I  were  a  toad  on  which  she  longed  to  stamp 
her  foot.  "You  have  forgotten  that  M.  le  Marquis 
de  Merivale  is  here." 

''  Silvain's  presence  will  not  poison  him,"  reflected 
the  Chevalier. 

"  Nay  ;  but  Monsieur  le  Marquis  is  a  gentleman," 
she  said. 

''  Mademoiselle,  ma  cousine,"  I  ventured,  ''  you 
remind  me  of  a  wasp." 

"  It  is  usual  for  wasps  to  sting  those  who  offend 
them,"  she  answered,  somewhat  wearily. 

*'  Aurelie,  bring  me  the  red  phial.  I  am  dizzy 
again,"  whispered  the  Chevalier ;  and  all  my  fury 
towards  Mademoiselle  melted  away  when  she  re- 
arranged his  pillow  with  a  swift  tenderness,  while 
he  drank  the  liquid  and  sat  up,  a  flush  momentarily 
crimsoning  his  cheeks.  She  was  like  Spring  hov- 
ering round  Winter's  hoary  locks — Spring  radiant 
with  beauty,  full  of  rich,  warm  life,  and  strength, 
and  love  ;  and  as  I  watched  her  I  think  my  melan- 
choly eyes  must  have  dragged  a  shred  of  pity  from 
her  heart,  for  in  a  wonderful,  sudden  manner  she  took 
my  hand. 

''  I  do  not  like  you,  Silvain,"  she  said ;  "  but 
you've  a  face  that  tells  me  you're  something  of  a 


64       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

man  at  heart.  I  wish  your  past  were  cleaner  and 
your  manners  were  better.  Will  you  leave  me  alone 
with  my  father?  " 

"  Mademoiselle — Aur^lie,"  I  answered,  "  I  have 
only  been  waiting  for  one  kind  word."  And  I  re- 
treated from  the  chamber  in  haste,  lest  my  famili- 
arity might  bring  further  chastisement  by  tongue 
or  by  riding-whip. 

I  went  down  the  stair  and  entered  a  very  beautiful 
salon.  It  was  empty ;  and,  sinking  into  a  chair,  I 
took  up  Le  Sage's  "  Gil  Bias  de  Santillane."  Ma- 
demoiselle's name  was  written  on  the  title-page,  and 
underneath :  ''  From  Merivale,  in  memory  of  sweet 
hours  at  Cheverny." 

*'  Oh-ho  !  "  I  thought,  "  so  Monsieur  le  Marquis 
has  been  sunning  himself  in  the  blaze  of  Mademoi- 
selle's bright  eyes.  He  may  be  her  lover.  Well, 
he  is  very  welcome."  And,  rising  again,  I  tossed 
the  book  down  and  sauntered  out  upon  the  terrace. 

Traces  of  the  recent  snow  lay  about  the  parterre, 
and  the  pretty  gilded  berceaux  that  in  summer-time 
were  smothered  by  vines  and  honeysuckles  shone 
desolate  and  naked  in  the  faint  rose-glow  of  the 
wintry  afternoon  sun.  Beyond  the  park  lay  great 
woods,  and  I  could  see  the  head  of  a  valley  and  the 
quick  rush  of  a  silvery  stream  threading  its  way 
through  the  village   of  Cheverny.      There   was   a 


MADEMOISELLE  SHOWS  HER  TEETH      65 

subtle  fascination  in  the  scene  ;  everything  seemed 
so  still,  so  intensely  silent,  and  the  old  chateau  be- 
hind me  threw  a  vast  grotesque  shadow  over  the 
parterre.  As  I  walked  to  and  fro  my  thoughts  grew 
deep  and  large,  and  again  they  roved  back  to  Ma- 
dame la  Duchesse  de  Berri,  Although  I  had  onl}^ 
just  returned  to  France  after  a  lengthy  absence, 
rumours  of  Madame's  participation  with  M.  le  Due 
d'Orleans  in  extraordinary  gaieties  at  the  Luxem- 
bourg and  the  Palais-Royal  were  as  common  as  sin 
in  Paris.     It  was  said  she  had  a  dozen  lovers. 

D'Anquital  had  sneered  at  her  constancy,  and  my 
resentment  meant  a  duel  on  my  return,  unless  he 
chose  to  allow  the  matter  to  rest.  But  I  never 
believed  these  fables  of  Madame,  They  were  in- 
vented by  the  Regent's  enemies,  and  although  I 
knew  her  to  be  gay — to  be  fond  of  pleasure — to 
covet  admiration,  like  all  women  who  love  the 
bright  world,  I  would  not  for  one  moment  place 
credence  in  scandal  disseminated  by  the  devotees 
of  that  clever  little  intriguer,  Madame  la  Duchesse 
du  Maine.  And  God  only  could  tell  what  plots  she 
might  be  hatching  at  Sceaux  for  the  destruction  of 
the  Regency. 

Long  ago,  in  my  palmier  days,  I  had  been  one  of 
the  privileged  admitted  to  the  Sceaux  circle — and  I 
knew  everyone  worth  knowing,  from  the  Cardinal 


66        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

de  Polignac  to  M.  de  Malezieu ;  but  times  had 
changed — my  fortunes  had  changed,  and  although 
Madame  la  Duchesse  du  Maine  still  held  a  mag- 
nificent Court,  which  in  the  latter  days  of  Louis 
Quatorze  had  curiously  contrasted  with  the  dull 
monotony  of  the  Grand  Monarque's  own,  and 
gathered  about  her  men  of  letters,  of  the  drama,  and 
of  the  sword,  my  wild  gambling  spirit  and  roving 
temperament  alienated  me  steadily  from  my  old 
illustrious  acquaintances  ;  and  at  last,  weary  of 
tolerating  my  endless  duels  and  my  recklessness  at 
the  dice  or  the  lansquenet  table,  even  my  lord  Car- 
dinal, when  we  met,  passed  with  a  cool  nod  that 
made  my  face  flame. 

Well,  well!  What  cared  I?  Friends,  such  as 
they  are,  come  and  go,  and  if  a  dozen  saints  cut  my 
company,  I  always  found  twenty  sinners  to  aid  me 
spend  a  gay  night  with  the  wine  and  the  cards  ! 
And,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  was  more  at  home  'mid 
the  sinners  than  the  saints.  Perhaps  this  was  why 
Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri  so  fascinated  me. 

Life  to  Madame  seemed  to  be  a  road  which  should 
be  strewn  with  roses,  and  fringed  by  the  admiration 
of  a  thousand  fond  lovers  whose  hopes  were  centred 
wholly  on  her  smiles,  and  I,  to  whom  she  had  given 
caresses  and  a  promise  which  kept  my  heart  dancing 
like  a  ball  on   a  water   spray,  counted  myself  the 


MADEMOISELLE  SHOWS  HER  TEETH      (y] 

luckiest  man  in  all  France.  I  was  already  closer  to 
her  and  to  my  reward :  I  had  killed  the  rascal  Sil- 
vain,  gained  a  footing  in  the  chateau,  and  had  even 
won  a  graceless  word  of  indulgence  from  Mademoi- 
selle Aurelie,  who,  like  a  hound,  appeared  to  know  a 
rogue  by  instinct.  This  was  exceedingly  gratifying, 
and  I  began  to  cast  about  in  my  quick  mind  how  I 
might  further  ingratiate  myself  into  her  reluctant 
favour,  and  use  her  as  a  medium  'twixt  the  Chevalier 
and  myself  in  my  diplomatic  strivings  to  gain  pos- 
session of  those  letters  relating  to  the  new  conspiracy. 

Then  there  was  M.  le  Marquis  de  Merivale. 
What  was  he  doing  at  Cheverny  ?  I  would  make  it 
my  business  to  find  out,  and,  if  possible,  get  rid  of 
a  most  inconveniently  astute  and  frivolous  English- 
man. If  it  came  to  the  worst  I  should  have  to  quar- 
rel with  him,  and  send  my  blade  under  his  ribs. 
The  trick  was  nothing  new  to  me — and  now  I  was 
gaily  careering  down  the  hill  to  Hell,  a  life,  more 
or  less,  on  my  soul  could  scarcely  matter.  Ruat 
ccelum  !  and  I  would  try  at  the  last  to  be  a  man  ! 

While  I  pondered,  who  should  approach  from  one 
of  the  berceaux  but  M.  le  Marquis  himself,  and, 
strolling  through  the  gardens,  he  ascended  the  steps 
to  the  terrace  and  honoured  me  by  a  careless  nod. 

"  A  magnificent  afternoon,  M.  le  Marquis !  "  I 
observed. 


68        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Very,"  he  replied. 

"You  seem  much  at  home  in  Cheverny,"  I  said, 
trying  to  be  rude  against  my  will.  He  put  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  and  surveyed  me  with  a  laughing 
eye. 

"  You  are,  I  understand,  heir  to  Cheverny,"  he 
remarked,  leaning  against  the  marble  balustrade, 
*'but  I  cannot  compliment  the  domain  on  its  future 
owner.  Monsieur,  you  resemble  one  of  my  cocks. 
You  crow  loudest  on  other  people's  dunghills,  and 
until  the  Chevalier  and*  Mademoiselle  tire  of  my 
company  I  shall  make  myself  as  much  at  home  here 
as  I  please." 

I  laughed  back  at  him. 

"Ah,  it  is  Mademoiselle  !  "  I  cried.  "  She  is  the 
lodestar,  eh,  M.  le  Marquis  ?  "  and  I  looked  to  see 
his  face  flush,  but  with  a  wonderful  serenity  he 
cocked  his  head  a  little  on  one  side,  and  hummed  a 
scrap  of  an  opera  song,  very  softly,  in  a  manner  that 
rasped  against  my  temper  like  a  file. 

"  It  is  Mademoiselle  who  keeps  you  at  Cheverny  !  " 
I  cried  again,  bent  on  making  his  passion  burst. 

"  Are  the  grapes  sour,  Monsieur  ?  "  he  murmured, 
brushing  a  clot  of  snow  from  his  shoe.  "  You  seem 
to  resent  my  presence  here  ;  but  I  can  assure  you 
Mademoiselle's  smiles  are  a  hundred  times  more 
alluring  than  your  frowns,  and  as  long  as  the  sun- 


MADEMOISFXLE  SHOWS  HER  TEETH      69 

shine  of  her  eyes  warms  my  heart,  I  shall  feel  I  am 
welcome  at  Cheverny.  But  you  appear  to  be  an 
unbidden  guest.     Why  is  that?" 

"Your  insolence,  M.  le  Marquis,  is  getting  the 
better  of  my  temper,"  I  replied,  "  and  unless  you 
wish  to  measure  swords  with  me,  I  think  you  would 
be  wise  in  bridling  your  loose  tongue." 

''  Oh  !  "  he  laughed.  ''  I  believe  you  want  a  duel, 
burn  my  red  blood  if  I  don't !  " 

"  The  matter  may  go  as  far  as  M.  le  Marquis 
pleases,"  I  said. 

''  Well,  Monsieur  Silvain,  you  certainly  amuse 
me,"  he  answered,  *'  and  I  have  no  doubt  you  are 
thirsting  to  hear  your  rapier  rattle  'gainst  mine  ; 
but  It  is  not  my  custom,  or  the  custom  of  any  hon- 
ourable Englishman,  to  fight  with  low  rufflers  who 
think  it  no  shame  to  stab  defenceless  men  and 
women  in  the  dark  streets  by  the  Cathedral  of  Notre 
Dame.  Adieu,  Monsieur,  adieu  !  and  the  Marquis 
swung  away  into  the  salon  to  meet  Mademoiselle, 
leaving  me  alone  on  the  terrace  to  gnash  my  teeth 
in  fury.  At  the  moment  I  forgot  I  was  not  Silvain 
de  Cheverny. 


CHAPTER    VII 

MONSIEUR  IS    A  DEVIL 

The  days  passed  drearily  at  the  chateau  ;  I  was 
tolerated  by  Aurelie  and  the  Marquis,  feared  by  the 
grooms,  hated  by  the  maids,  and  treated  by  the 
Chevalier  with  a  strange  mingling  of  friendliness 
and  subtle  contempt.  At  times  I  had  a  strong 
mind  to  be  Audran  de  Championnet  once  more — to 
throw  off  the  Silvain  mask  and  with  art  and  flattery 
win  my  way  into  Mademoiselle's  heart  ;  but  then 
the  fear  came  across  me  that  I  might  be  discovered, 
and  my  little  plans  nipped  in  the  ripening  bud.  M. 
le  Marquis  and  I  spoke  no  more  of  a  duel,  and  when 
I  had  accompanied  him  to  one  of  the  berceaux  and 
won  a  hundred  louis  by  betting  on  a  new  cock 
which  nearly  killed  Saint  Peter  in  the  first  encoun- 
ter, I  was  almost  ready  to  forgive  him  for  his  affront 
on  the  terrace. 

Mademoiselle  too,  now  and  again,  deigned  to 
address  me,  and  I  had  many  opportunities  of  observ- 
ing her  very  excellent  qualities  and  admirable 
70 


MONSIEUR  IS  A  DEVIL  71 

strength  of  character.  Although  no  older  than 
Madame  la  Duchesse,  who  was  scarcely  twenty-two, 
and  who  had  been  schooled  in  the  world's  gaiety 
and  fascination  and  sin  at  Versailles,  the  Palais- 
Royal,  and  the  Luxembourg,  I  warrant  Aurelie  de 
Cheverny  was  not  a  whit  less  accomplished  in  her 
knowledge  of  men  and  Court  folly  ;  for  from  the 
Chevalier  she  might  have  learned  enough  scandal, 
palace  intrigue,  and  wickedness  to  turn  a  giddier 
woman's  head.  Yes,  M.  le  Chevalier,  like  Dubois, 
knew  everything — he  frequently  received  long  let- 
ters from  old  Parisian  acquaintances  who  were  con- 
versant with  all  that  was  happening  round  the 
Regent  or  at  the  Court  of  Sceaux,  where  the 
Duchesse  du  Maine  still  magnetised  a  splendid  fol- 
lowing by  her  magnificent  fetes  and  delightful 
gaities,  and  in  dull  moments,  over  his  wine,  he  re- 
galed his  daughter  with  reminiscences  of  his  past 
which  were  most  certainly  unfit  for  any  woman's 
ears.  But  Aurelie  was  a  girl  of  a  thousand,  and 
there  happened  days  of  melancholy  when  I  would 
have  given  my  sight  for  such  a  flood  of  devotion 
and  love  as  she  poured  upon  the  unworthy  old 
Chevalier,  I  say  I  was  melancholy,  and  how  I  know 
not,  save  that  sometimes  'tis  the  sinner's  scourge, 
but  there  were  great  reasons  why  I  should  keep  a 
high  heart  during  the  next  few  weeks.     While  my 


72        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

plot  was  dormant  others  were  quickening,  and  I 
was  soon  plunged  in  a  veritable  whirlpool  of  extraor- 
dinary happenings.  M.  le  Chevalier,  who  had 
been  downstairs  a  little,  was  forced  again  to  retire 
to  his  bed,  and  I  was  surprised  one  day  when  Aurelie 
came  with  a  message  from  him. 

"  My  father  would  like  to  see  you,"  she  said,  not 
over-delightedly,  and  following  her  to  the  chamber, 
I  found  the  old  scoundrel  sitting  up  in  his  bed. 
His  strange,  wicked  eyes  gleamed  as  I  entered,  and, 
stretching  out  a  slender  hand,  he  bade  me  welcome. 
Aurelie  immediately  retired,  and,  closing  the  door, 
I  locked  it  fast. 

'*  Why  is  that  ?  "  asked  the  Chevalier,  peering 
across  at  me  and  moistening  his  dry  lips  with  his 
tongue. 

"  For  precaution's  sake,  Monsieur,"  I  answered. 
*'  You  have  something  extremely  important  to  tell 
me." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so,  Silvain  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Because  otherwise  you  would  not  have  desired 
my  presence  here.  All  the  days  I  have  been  at 
Cheverny  you  and  the  Marquis  and  Aurelie  have 
watched  and  watched  me  incessantly,  and  I  may  as 
well  tell  you  that  I  am  tired  of  it.  I  am  your 
nephew,  I  am  heir  to  the  chateau  and  the  demesne, 
I  possess  the  Regent's  pardon  for  a  crime  done  in 


MONSIEUR  IS  A  DEVIL  73 

hot  blood,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should  not 
be  a  son  to  you,  M.  le  Chevalier." 

"  None  whatever,"  he  reflected,  '*if  I  could  only 
trust  you." 

"  You  might  trust  me  with  your  life,"  I  said,  the 
words  almost  burning  my  throat. 

"  Will  you  swear  that  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  sharp 
voice,  and  I  answered  : 

"  Monsieur,  I  will." 

"  You  love  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans,  Silvain  ?  "  he  con- 
tinued, glancing  swiftly  at  my  face. 

"  No,"  I  replied,  *'  I  hate  him." 

''  That  is  well  !  "  he  said,  softly  ;  "  so  do  I,  Silvain, 
so  do  I  !  But  you  do  not  hate  him  enough  to  wish 
him  dead?  " 

"  I  would  kill  him  with  my  own  hand  if  the  chance 
came  !  "  I  returned,  and  the  Chevalier  caught  my 
wrist  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight  and  drew  my  ear  down 
to  his  lips. 

''  The  chance  shall  come  !  "  he  whispered,  panting 
as  though  his  breath  were  spent,  and  picking  at  the 
sheets,  scarce  whiter  than  his  own  face,  with  fingers 
that  twitched  and  trembled.  A  sudden  silence  fell 
between  us,  and  I  could  not  help  smiling  to  think 
how  the  Regent  would  have  laughed  had  he  heard 
my  mock  braggadocio. 

Mon  Dieu,  I  seemed  to  be  playing  my  cards  with 


74       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

success,  and  slowly  but  surely  M.  le  Chevalier  was 
beginning  to  succumb  to  my  lying  protestations  of 
faith  and  loyalty.  So  low  had  I  come  !  Yet  what 
could  I  do  ?  There  was  Madame  la  Duchesse  to  be 
won  ;  and  if  ever  a  woman  was  worth  sinning  for,  it 
was  she. 

While  the  Chevalier  lay  back  amid  his  pillows  in 
meditation,  I  stood  looking  at  him  and  playing  with 
my  rings.  Among  them  was  the  Cheverny  signet 
he  had  given  Silvain,  and  I  daresay  this,  more  than 
my  superb  acting,  disarmed  him  of  any  slight  sus- 
picion of  my  right  to  use  the  chateau  as  I  pleased 
in  a  masterful  manner  peculiarly  my  own. 

The  afternoon  darkened,  and,  lighting  a  candle,  I 
drew  the  heavy  curtains  just  as  M.  le  Chevalier 
roused  himself  from  something  resembling  a  lethargic 
stupor. 

"  You  are  still  here,  Silvain  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  I  am  waiting  on  you,  Monsieur,"  I  replied,  and 
the  old  subtle  sparkle  danced  to  his  eyes  once  more. 

''  Ah,  we  were  speaking  of  His  Highness  the 
Regent  !  "  he  answered,  and  I  watched  his  white 
fingers  crawl  to  my  wrist  with  a  little  shudder  of 
nameless  horror. 

*'  Yes,  we  were  speaking  of  the  Regent,"  I  said. 
"You  want  me  to  kill  him." 

His  lips  emitted  a  low,  evil  laugh. 


MONSIEUR  IS  A  DEVIL  75 

"  You  should  be  well  paid  for  your  work,"  he 
murmured. 

"  Murder  deserves  a  reward,'*  I  replied.  "  What 
would  be  yours.  Monsieur?" 

"  You  are  mercenary,  Silvain  !  "  M.  le  Chevalier 
cooed.  "  It  was  always  gold,  gold,  gold,  when  you 
were  a  boy,  and  time  has  not  cured  your  avarice. 
Do  you  remember  when  you  stole  my  purse,  eh, 
you  thief?" 

*'  Perfectly,"  I  returned,  with  a  sangfroid  that  was 
admirable. 

"  What  did  you  do  with  the  money?  "  he  asked. 

Some  men  might  have  been  cornered  by  this,  but 
M.  le  Vicomte  de  Championnet  was  no  ordinary 
adventurer  of  the  bull-headed  type.  He  had  brains 
— he  had  quickness — he  had  imagination,  and  the 
reply  came  very  swiftly  : 

"  Monsieur,  I  spent  it  all  among  the  officers  of  the 
Gardes  Frangaises.  Half  went  at  lansquenet,  half 
at  dice.     It  was  only  five  hundred  louis  !  " 

"  Seven  !  "  he  corrected. 

"  Seven  then,"  I  answered.  "  Well,  it  does  not 
matter — all  was  lost  at  the  gaming-tables." 

"  I  imagined  that,"  he  said.  *'  Ten  years  have 
passed." 

'•'  Is  it  really  so  long  a  time  ?  "  I  mused.  "  Peste  ! 
how  a  man's  life  flies.     And  the  devil   of  it  is  that 


76        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

one  gets  so  little  gaiety  out  of  it.  Now  what  do 
you  want  me  to  do,  Monsieur — kill  the  Regent  by 
poison,  by  knife,  or  by  bullet  ?  " 

''  I  want  you  to  kill  him  in  any  way  you  please," 
he  replied,  lowering  his  voice  again  to  a  thin,  intense 
whisper.  ''  Silvain,  I  am  deep  in  a  plot  with  Al- 
beroni  for  the  overthrow  of  the  Regency." 

I  drew  back  with  affected  surprise. 

"  I  have  letters  here,"  he  continued,  glueing  his 
lips  to  my  ear — "letters  from  my  Lord  Cardinal, 
Madame  la  Duchesse  du  Maine,  and  a  dozen  others, 
all  united  in  a  common  hatred  against  M.  le  Due 
d'Orleans  and  that  pretty  wanton,  Madame  la 
Duchesse  de  Berri." 

I  shook  his  fingers  from  my  wrist,  and  Pardieu ! 
it  was  a  hard  matter  for  me  to  keep  my  own  from 
his  throat.  I  choked  with  rage  :  my  face,  I  know, 
was  grey  with  passion,  and  had  M.  le  Chevalier  been 
a  younger  man  I  would  have  almost  thrashed  him 
as  he  lay.  But  I  controlled  my  temper,  and  pres- 
ently, growing  calmer,  I  ventured  a  strong  remon- 
strance. 

"  What  have  you  heard  of  Madame  la  Duchesse 
de  Berri,  Monsieur  ?  "  I  demanded. 

"  Much,"  he  said. 

"Evil?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied.     "  What  else  ?  " 


MONSIEUR  IS  A  DEVIL  77 

"But  I  am  her  lover!"  I  cried,  the  words 
wrenched  from  my  h'ps  by  the  cool  torture  of  M.  le 
Chevalier's  exasperating  manner.  The  next  moment 
I  cursed  myself  as  the  greatest  fool  under  God's 
sun. 

"You  are  only  one  of  them,"  said  the  Chevalier. 
"  She  has  a  score." 

"It  would  be  no  wonder  if  ten  thousand  wor- 
shipped her,"  I  replied,  the  sweat  running  down  my 
face. 

"There  are  a  great  many  idiots  in  Paris,"  he  re- 
turned, "  and  you  appear  to  be  one  of  them.  But 
as  you  have  only  just  been  released  from  the  Bas- 
tille, I  cannot  quite  understand  how  she  has  found 
time  to  fascinate  you." 

"  I  met  her  at  the  Luxembourg,"  I  said,  sinking 
deeper  into  the  mire. 

"  At  the  Luxembourg?  What  were  you  doing 
there?" 

"  I  was  at  the  Luxembourg  by  the  Regent's  in- 
vitation." 

"  Immediately  after  you  left  the  Bastille?  " 

I  nodded. 

"And  why?"  he  asked;  and  finding  me  silent, 
M.  le  Chevalier  drew  me  closer  and  hissed  again 
into  my  ear,  "  And  why  ?  "  My  lips  were  sealed  ;  I 
tried  to  lie,  but  the  words  would  not  come,   and 


78        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

though  I  wrenched  myself  free,  De  Cheverny  made 
another  snatch  at  my  wrist,  shd  back  my  sleeve,  ran 
his  fingers  along  my  arm,  and  then  thrust  me  aside 
with  a  strange  shrill  laugh  that  leapt  echoing 
round  the  chamber  like  the  snarl  of  some  wild 
beast. 

"  Caught  !  "  he  screamed.  "  Caught !  You 
devil !  You  damned  spy !  Ha !  ha  !  you  would 
have  been  clever  indeed  to  fool  Antoine  de  Cheverny, 
and  yet  I  see  how  nearly  I  was  fooled.  You  had 
the  signet,  you  had  Silvain's  face,  you  had  his  voice 
and  his  insolence,  but  you  have  not  his  loud,  harsh 
laugh.  Monsieur,  nor  his  scar  on  your  arm.  These 
trifles  escaped  you  when  you  decided,  no  doubt  at 
the  instance  of  the  Regent  of  France,  to  try  and 
pass  yourself  for  my  nephew,  and  steal  some  secrets 
from  me.  But  I  have  found  you  out — the  whole 
plot  is  plain  as  glaring  day,  and  I  know  now  why 
you  came  to  Cheverny.  Oh-ho  !  to  think  the  grooms, 
and  the  serving-men,  and  the  maids,  and  Aurelic 
should  be  cheated  day  after  day  by  a  rascal  whose 
villainy  was  only  discovered  by  an  old  man  !  "  And 
he  began  to  shout  at  the  top  of  his  voice  for  Made- 
moiselle and  M.  le  Marquis  de  Merivale. 

I  sprang  forward  and  clapped  a  hand  on  his  mouth, 
tripping  against  a  chair  as  I  did  so,  and  knocking 
over  the  candle.     In  an  instant,  in  the  wink  of  an 


MONSIEUR  IS  A  DEVIL  79 

eye,  M.  le  Chevalier  squirmed  like  an  eel  from  my 
grasp,  and  leapt  out  of  the  bed.  I  heard  him  patter 
across  the  room,  I  heard  him  searching  to  and  fro, 
and  presently  a  slight  clicking  noise  made  me  start, 
and  I  knew  he  had  found  a  pistol.  I  could  not  see 
him,  but,  scenting  danger,  I  pulled  my  rapier  free  and 
moved  cautiously  backward.  The  quick  pant  of  his 
breath  was  loud,  and  I  was  wondering  in  what  part 
of  the  chamber  he  was  standing  when  the  snap  of  a 
trigger  and  a  faint  flash  of  flint  told  me  that  the 
weapon  had  missed  fire.  A  flood  of  blasphemy 
poured  from  M.  le  Chevalier's  lips,  and  then,  still 
listening,  a  silvery,  tinkling  noise  struck  on  my 
ears,  and  the  pattering  of  his  bare  feet  recom- 
menced. 

"  Sang  Dieu,  he  has  a  sword  !  "  I  muttered  ;  and, 
dropping  to  my  knees,  I  began  to  search  for  the 
candle,  which  had  rolled  underneath  the  bed.  Grop- 
ing with  outstretched  hands,  I  moved  along,  and 
suddenly  my  fingers  touched  a  man's  ankle.  It  was 
the  ChevaUer's,  and  I  heard  him  give  a  soft,  sobbing 
kind  of  laugh,  very  weird  and  exultant,  as  he  thrust 
downward  with  all  his  ebbing  strength.  The  point 
of  his  sword  ripped  a  hole  in  my  coat,  and  passed 
over  my  hip  like  a  tongue  of  fire,  leaving  a  sharp, 
burning  pain  ;  and  stifling  a  cry,  I  caught  at  his 
foot  and  tripped  him  up,  so  that  he   fell  across  the 


8o        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

bed,  calling  again  for  Aurelie  and  the  Marquis.  His 
voice  rose  to  a  shriek,  and  I  had  scarce  time  to 
wriggle  to  the  door  when  Mademoiselle  came  and 
drummed  upon  it  with  her  little  hands. 

I  threw  down  my  rapier  and  rapidly  shot  both 
bolts.  Satan  himself  could  not  have  been  more 
cruel ;  and  yet  I  was  not  cold  or  heartless,  but  driven 
by  necessity  to  keep  Aurelie  out  while  I  collected 
my  wits.  I  crept  once  more  to  the  bed,  found 
the  candle,  and  kindling  a  flame  with  trembling 
fingers,  bent  over  the  Chevalier  and  looked  upon 
his  face.  It  was  stamped  by  the  hand  of  death,  and 
I  stepped  back,  shaken  and  amazed.  The  lips  were 
parted,  the  teeth  wore  a  grin  of  hate  dreadful  in  its 
intensity,  and  the  eyes  were  indescribable.  Only  a 
man  dying  with  a  soul  insatiate  for  vengeance  could 
look  as  M.  le  Chevalier  de  Cheverny  looked  at  me ; 
and  Avhen  I  retreated  to  the  door  and  set  my  back 
against  it,  regardless  of  Mademoiselle's  cries,  I 
wished  to  heaven  I  had  never  lighted  the  candle.  I 
shuddered  to  watch  him,  and  yet  I  could  not  tear 
my  gaze  away  from  that  shrunken,  evil  face,  stream- 
ing with  the  death-sweat  ;  nor  from  those  eyes — 
now  bright,  now  dim,  but  always  full  of  an  inex- 
tinguishable loathing — which  followed  my  every 
movement. 

And  all  this   time  Mademoiselle   was  screamins" 


MONSIEUR  IS  A  DEVIL  8i 

"  mon  p^re !  mon  pere  !  "  and  beating  the  door  with 
her  hands  until  I  daresay  they  bled.  One  or  two 
maids,  attracted  by  the  noise,  were  approaching, 
and  I  thanked  God  M.  le  Marquis  had  gone  down 
to  Cheverny  on  an  errand  for  Aurelie.  If  the  Che- 
valier would  only  die  quickly !  I  caught  myself 
praying  that  he  might,  and  with  good  reason,  for 
my  plot  and  my  hopes  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  were 
doomed  if  he  had  breath  enough  to  reveal  my  per- 
fidy to  those  at  Cheverny.  Nay,  there  was  no  help 
for  it, — I  could  do  nothing  else  but  keep  them  out 
until  his  last  gasp. 

Presently  he  revived  a  little,  and  although  he  lay 
flat  on  his  back  across  the  bed  in  the  yellow  night 
robe,  with  his  white  hair  shining  like  silver,  he  man- 
aged to  raise  his  head  and  shriek  again  for  Aurelie 
once,  twice,  thrice, — and  her  cries  of  passion  and 
entreaty  were  enough  to  move  the  pity  of  the  devil 
or  make  the  angels  weep. 

"Silvain,  are  you  within?"  she  screamed.  ''Oh, 
open  the  door  !  open  the  door !  Mon  Dieu,  my 
father  is  dying !  Give  me  entrance,  Silvain,  for 
Christ's  sake  !     Oh,  you  devil !  you  devil !  " 

"Aurelie!" 

It  was  M.  le  Chevalier's  last  call.     Back  dropped 

his  head,  and  leaving  my   post   I   ran    forward  and 

peered  down  into  his  face. 
6 


82        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Yes  !  yes  !  "  I  murmured  ;  *'  he  is  dead.  Thank 
God,  he  is  dead  !  " 

At  that  very  moment  his  eyes  unclosed,  his  fingers 
caught  at  my  shoulders  in  a  death-grip  which  I  could 
neither  shake  off  nor  loosen,  and  dragging  me  closer 
and  closer  until  my  lips  nearly  touched  his  own,  he 
spat  a  clot  of  blood  in  my  face  !  And  then  some- 
thing like  a  ghastly  smile  crept  around  his  mouth  ; 
he  shivered  once  or  twice,  tried  to  spit  at  me  again, 
and  died  with  his  stiff  fingers  plunged  in  the  soft 
velvet  of  my  sleeves.  Tearing  m5^self  free  from  his 
embrace,  I  swung  about,  and,  picking  uf  my  sword, 
stood  listening  in  the  manner  of  a  wolf  at  bay. 

Men  were  battering  on  the  door,  and  amid  their 
rough  chorus  I  could  plainly  hear  the  low,  bitter 
sobbing  of  Mademoiselle  Aurelie.  Then  M.  le 
Marquis  de  Merivale's  voice  sounded  in  the  corridor, 
and  she  gave  a  cry,  very  sudden  and  loud. 

"  My  father  is  dead  !  Silvain  has  killed  him  !  "  she 
moaned.     ''  Oh,  M.  le  Marquis,  M.  le  Marquis  !  " 

He  swore  as  only  Englishmen  can  swear,  and 
launched  his  light  body  against  the  door  with  such 
fury  that  one  bolt  burst  from  the  socket,  startling 
me  to  swift  action. 

I  gazed  around.  A  secretaire  stood  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  chamber,  and  v/renching  open  the  draw- 
ers, I  found  amid  a  litter  of  papers  a  small  packet, 


MONSIEUR  IS  A  DEVIL  83 

marked  ''  Correspondence  with  Cardinal  Alberoni," 
and  a  mad,  wicked  thrill  ran  through  and  through 
me.  Ah  !  luck  was  mine,  Madame  la  Duchesse  was 
mine,  and  now  all  my  dreams  of  power  and  passion 
were  on  the  very  brink  of  realisation.  I  could  go 
back  to  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans,  and  say  :  "  Monsei- 
gneur,  I  have  brought  you  what  you  thirsted  for," 
and  claim  my  reward.  I  could  go  to  the  Duchesse, 
and  say  :  **  Madame,  I  have  kept  my  oath  :  will  you 
make  me  the  proudest  man  in  France,  by  redeeming 
your  promise  ?  " — and  afterwards  Avould  follow  fame, 
greatness,  and  a  life  of  pleasure. 

A  life  of  pleasure !  My  eyes  wandered  back  to 
M.  le  Chevalier,  lying  so  still,  and  white,  and  awful, 
on  the  bed.  What  had  his  life  been  ?  That  of  a 
roue,  a  scheming  diplomatist,  a  debauchee  steeped 
in  vice  and  corruption.  And  yet  a  woman  loved 
him  !  A  thousand  wondering  thoughts  passed  like 
lightning  through  my  brain,  and  for  an  instant  I 
stood  irresolute,  the  letters  in  my  hand  ;  then  the 
door  almost  burst  from  its  hinges,  and,  running 
softly  across  the  chamber,  I  flung  aside  the  curtains, 
opened  the  window,  and  slipped  out  upon  the  ledge, 
closing  the  lattice  again  with  extreme  gentleness. 
And  the  ghost  of  the  Chevalier  seemed  to  be  follow- 
ing me  all  the  time,  tiying  to  spit  clots  of  blood 
into  my  face.     At  the  risk  of  breaking  my  limbs  I 


84       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

dropped  to  the  terrace,  and  escaped  with  nothing 
worse  than  a  slight  sprain,  though  my  hip,  where 
M.  le  Chevalier's  rapier  had  torn  the  flesh,  burned 
like  fire,  and  a  momentary  stab  of  agony  forced  me 
to  lean  against  the  marble  balustrade. 

A  brilliant  radiance  of  silver  moonlight  flooded 
the  terrace  and  the  trim  parterre,  and  the  golden 
tracery  of  the  little  berceaux  danced  and  sparkled 
in  the  strong  stream  of  crimson  illumination  which 
poured  from  the  windows  of  the  grand  salon  out 
into  the  night.  What  a  mockery  it  seemed  !  And 
above,  in  M.  le  Chevalier's  chamber,  they  were 
kindling  candles,  and,  although  it  may  have  been 
fancy,  I  could  have  svv'orn  I  heard  Mademoiselle 
Aurelie's  voice  crying,  "Oh,  you  devil!  you 
devil ! " 


CHAPTER    VIII 

M.    LE   MARQUIS   IS   FOILED 

"  Come,  my  dear  de  Championnet,  en  avant ! "  I 
said  to  myself.  "  There  is  no  time  to  waste  "  ;  and 
I  painfully  made  for  the  stables.  The  courtyard 
was  deserted,  and  I  could  imagine  the  grooms  and 
boys  staring  into  the  Chevalier's  room  with  white, 
fascinated  faces,  and  Mademoiselle  Aurelie  swoon- 
ing in  the  arms  of  M.  le  Marquis. 

*' A  pretty  picture,"  I  muttered.  '*  Well,  here's 
for  Paris  and  love  !     Where  are  the  lanthorns?  " 

I  found  one  just  without  the  entrance  to  a  long 
building  in  which  M.  le  Due's  mare  was  stalled,  and 
a  dozen  other  horses  ;  and  before  saddling  her,  I 
took  a  quick  glance  at  the  packet  in  my  hand.  It 
was  loosely  tied  by  a  strip  of  black  silk,  and  caution 
urged  me  to  break  this  with  my  fingers  ;  and  I  con- 
fess I  nearly  cursed  my  heart  out  to  discover  that, 
instead  of  a  priceless  bundle  of  letters  written  by 
Cardinal  Alberoni,  the  cover  contained  nothing  but 
a  few  thick  wrappings  of  naked  parchment,  which 

85 


86       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

had  evidently  been  wound  around  something  of 
value  to  protect  it  from  wet,  or  the  wear  and  tear 
of  travel.  For  the  moment  mad  disappointment 
and  frantic  chagrin  made  me  grind  my  teeth  and 
stamp  until  the  stable  rang :  then  my  old  indomi- 
table strength  of  will  re-asserted  itself  once  more, 
and  I  swore  that  naught  on  earth  should  conquer 
my  desires,  whatever  they  might  be. 

Thrusting  the  packet  of  rubbish  into  my  pocket, 
I  returned  to  the  terrace  and  entered  the  salon.  M. 
le  Marquis  was  there,  lounging  on  a  couch,  with  a 
face  of  iron  ;  Mademoiselle  also  was  there,  sitting 
by  a  table,  with  her  head  resting  upon  her  white 
arms,  weeping  bitterly ;  and  I  stood  near  the 
hearth,  gazing  at  each  in  turn.  The  Marquis  rose, 
and  I  thought  he  had  a  mind  to  depart ;  but  instead, 
he  quietly  tugged  out  his  rapier  and  approached 
me  in  a  cool,  relentless  fashion  that  took  me  entirely 
by  surprise,  and  I  wondered  what  the  plague  he 
intended  to  do. 

*'  I  am  going  to  kill  you.  Monsieur !  "  he  an- 
nounced, and  Aurelie  looked  up  with  red,  blazing 
eyes,  and  gave  a  sharp,  rapturous  laugh  which 
turned  me  cold. 

The  raw,  deliberate  hate  in  that  laugh  unutter- 
ably astonished  me,  and  I  pray  God  no  gentleman 
of  fortune  may  ever  cringe  before  such  a  gaze  of 


M.  LE  MARQUIS  IS  FOILED  87 

loathing  as  Mademoiselle  poured  into  my  eyes. 
Almost  unconscious  of  my  act,  I  drew  my  sword, 
and  waited  on  M.  le  Marquis  like  a  man  in  a  dream  ; 
but  my  point  was  lowered,  and  he  would  take  no 
advantage,  though  I  certainly  deserved  a  dog's 
death. 

"  On  guard,  Monsieur  de  Cheverny  !  "  he  said. 
"  I  would  let  an  assassin  fight  for  his  life !  " 

I  flung  do\vn  my  rapier,  and  folded  my  arms. 

"  I  am  not  an  assassin,  M.  le  Marquis,  but  a  man 
who  has  no  fear  to  die,"  I  replied,  and  he  looked  at 
me  in  some  amazement,  with  his  blade  on  the 
quiver ;  while  Mademoiselle  Aurelie,  both  hands 
pressed  to  her  bosom,  rose  erect,  and  stood  motion- 
less, extraordinarily  pretty  and  magnificent. 

**  You  will  not  fight  me  ? "  exclaimed  the  Mar- 
quis. 

"  Wh}^  should  I  ?  "   I  answered. 

"  You  killed  M.  le  Chevalier !  "  he  cried. 

''  You  lie,  Monsieur  !  "  I  said. 

"  No  man  on  earth  shall  give  me  the  lie !  "  he 
replied. 

"  I  have  done  so,"  I  murmured. 

"And  shall  pay  for  it." 

"  When  you  please,"  I  said.  "  It  is  a  matter 
entirely  between  ourselves.  But  I  repeat  that  the 
Chevalier  did  not  die  at  my  hands,  M.  le  Marquis." 


88        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

*'  I  do  not  believe  you  I  "  cried  Aurelie,  flashing 
round  upon  me  like  a  stream  of  light.  ''  You  bolted 
the  door  of  his  chamber — you  forced  a  quarrel,  and 
you  killed  him  !  " 

I  laughed  softly. 

"  Prove  it,  Mademoiselle." 

"  I  want  no  further  proof  than  your  natural  ras- 
cality ! "  she  answered.  "  What  are  you  but  a 
villain  and  a  murderer?  What  else  have  you  been 
these  ten  years  past?" 

"  I  was  once  a  gentleman,  Mademoiselle  Au- 
relie !  " 

"  You  surprise  me,"  she  returned,  with  a  bitter- 
ness which  caused  my  anger  to  flame.  How  this 
woman  hated  me  ! 

"  I  visited  M.  le  Chevalier,  my  uncle,  at  his  own 
request,"  I  said.  "You  cannot  deny  that.  Made- 
moiselle." 

Her  voice  was  silent,  but  one  little  foot  beat  a 
ratthng  tune  on  the  floor. 

''  And  he  confided  to  me  a  secret,"  I  continued. 
"  If  M.  le  Marquis  de  Merivale  would  be  so  courte- 
ous as  to  leave  us  alone,  I  might  explain  to  you, 
Mademoiselle,  all  that  occurred." 

"  M.  le  Marquis  shall  stay,"  she  replied,  with  de- 
cision. 

"  Mademoiselle  need  have  no  fear  of  me,"  I  said. 


M.  LE  MARQUIS  IS  FOILED  89 

A  quick  curl  of  her  red  lip  was  my  only  answer, 
and,  by  my  soul,  it  was  enough. 

**  Very  well,"  I  resumed,  *'  M.  le  Chevalier's  death 
must  remain  a  mystery.  Come,  be  just,  be  reason- 
able, be  strong,  and  hear  me  dispassionately.  Made- 
moiselle." 

For  awhile  she  hesitated,  glancing  sometimes  at  the 
Marquis,  sometimes  at  me,  and  I  met  her  eyes  with 
a  true,  steady  gaze  which  seemed  to  foil  her  distrust. 

"As  you  will,"  she  replied,  and,  slapping  his  rapier 
home  to  the  sheath,  M.  le  Marquis  quietly  moved 
towards  the  door.  He  turned  his  head  once,  that 
was  all,  but  there  was  a  threat  in  his  look  which  I 
quite  understood,  and  I  favoured  him  with  a  serene 
smile.  He  bowed,  the  door  closed,  and  Aurelie 
waited  for  me  to  break  the  long  silence. 

She  was  very  calm  and  pale,  and  her  gown  of 
daffodil  silk  had  a  sheen  as  of  gold  in  the  candle- 
light, and  a  little  stray  tangle  of  hair  fell  over  her  left 
temple,  giving  her  face  a  piquant  and  indescribable 
charm.  Her  fine  eyes  shone  with  great  brilliance, 
and  I  began  to  compare  them  with  those  of  Madame 
la  Duchesse,  coming  at  last  to  the  decision  that 
Mademoiselle's  were  both  sweeter  and  purer  than 
Madame's,  now  the  devil  of  passion  had  flown. 

"  Well,  Monsieur  ?  "  she  said,  and  I  started,  quite 
perceptibly. 


90       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

'*  You  will  reserve  your  judgment  until  the  end  ?  " 
I  asked. 

''  Go  on,  Monsieur,"  she  replied.  "  I  am  waiting 
to  hear  how  you  killed  my  father." 

The  tears  sprang  again  to  her  eyes,  and  I  could 
not  help  wondering  how  strange  a  thing  it  was  that 
she  should  have  borne  such  a  love  towards  M.  le 
Chevalier ;  but  I  once  heard  the  Cardinal  de  Polignac 
remark  with  a  great  deal  of  gravity  that  he  thought 
women  must  have  been  a  perplexity  to  God  ever 
since  the  Creation. 

*'  If  you  wait  to  hear  how  I  killed  your  father, 
you  may  wait  till  Judgment  Day,  Mademoiselle  !  " 
I  said,  "  and  then  you  will  find  that  he  did  not  die 
at  my  hands." 

"  At  your  sword-point,  then  !  "  she  cried. 

"  Have  you  found  a  scratch  on  his  body  ?  "  I  re- 
turned. 

''  A  pistol  and  rapier  lay  upon  the  floor,"  she  an^ 
swered. 

"  And  whose  were  they.  Mademoiselle,"  I  de- 
manded,— "  whose  but  M.  le  Chevalier's  ?  He  tried 
to  take  my  life — yes,  you  may  look  scornful,  you 
may  grind  your  pretty  teeth,  but  you  cannot  get 
away  from  the  truth.  I  admit  that  we  quarrelled, 
though  the  fault  was  not  mine." 

"  Why  did  you  quarrel  ?  "  she  asked. 


M.  LE  MARQUIS  IS  FOILED  91 

"  M.  le  Chevalier  wanted  me  to  join  him  in  a  plot 
against  the  Regent — that  was  why,  Mademoiselle," 
I  replied.  **  He  urged  me  to  kill  M.  le  Due  by 
stealth." 

I  hoped  to  see  her  start,  but  she  stayed  cool  and 
calm  as  a  beautiful  pillar  of  snow,  with  a  mocking 
smile  on  her  lips. 

"  And  you  declined  ?  "  she  returned,  in  exquisite 
surprise.  "  I  should  have  thought  another  murder 
would  have  been  honey  to  Monsieur  Silvain  de 
Cheverny  !  " 

"  You  drive  me  mad  !  "  I  cried.  "  My  God,  Ma- 
demoiselle, if  only  you  were  a  man  !  " 

•'  If  I  were  a  man,  Monsieur,"  she  said, — "  if  I 
were  a  man,  I  would  take  you  by  the  throat  and 
choke  you  from  the  chateau  !  " 

I  laughed  aloud,  full  of  admiration  for  her  superb 
spirit,  and  she  began  again  to  stamp  her  foot  upon 
the  floor. 

*'  Come,  Mademoiselle,  we  waste  time,"  I  replied. 
"  Permit  me  to  repeat  that  M.  le  Chevalier,  after  I 
refused  to  join  his  plot  against  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans, 
attacked  me  with  a  pistol,  which  missed  fire,  and 
then  with  a  sword.  See,  there  is  blood  on  my 
clothes  ;  and,  rather  than  fight  him,  I  escaped  by 
the  window.  You  may  call  me  a  coward  if  you  like ; 
but  I  had  no  mind  to  run  my  rapier  through  an  old 


92        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

man,  and  when  I  was  gone,  passion  must  have 
stretched  him  dead.  Remember  that  he  was  weak 
and  ill." 

"  Is  this  all  you  have  to  say  ?  "  she  answered. 

"  All,  Mademoiselle  !  "  I  returned.  "  Is  it  not 
sufficient  to  make  me  appear  cleaner  in  your  eyes  ?  " 

"  No,  Monsieur,  it  is  not  enough  !  Whether  your 
explanation  is  truth  or  a  He,  God  alone  will  judge. 
My  opinion  of  you  remains  the  same." 

"  And  you  still  hate  me  ?  "  I  murmured. 

"  I  have  always  done  that,"  she  replied.  "  Mon- 
sieur, now  my  father  is  dead,  this  chateau  is  no  place 
for  me,  and  I  shall  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of 
leaving  Cheverny  when  the  notary  has  arranged  for 
your  occupation  and  enjoyment  of  the  dwelling  and 
demesne.  I  would  go  at  once,  willingly,  under  the 
care  of  M.  le  Marquis  de  Merivale,  were  it  not  that 
he  above  claims  my  ministrations." 

"  Mademoiselle,  I  beg  you  will  remain  at  Che- 
verny I  "  I  cried. 

''  Remain  at  Cheverny— with  you  ?  "  she  said,  hot 
scorn  in  her  voice. 

*'  Nay  !  "  I  replied.  ''  My  business  here  need  only 
last  a  few  days  ;  and  then.  Mademoiselle,  I  promise 
on  my  sacred  word  of  honour  to  leave  you  unmo- 
lested—mistress of  Cheverny.  Can  I  say  more  ? 
Think  it  over,  and  give  me  your  answer  to-morrow. 


M.  LE  MARQUIS  IS  FOILED  93 

This  has  been  your  home  all  your  life  ;  let  it  con- 
tinue so.  I  have  no  wish  to  spend  an  hour  a  month 
here.  My  heart  is  in  Paris  ;  and  if  ever  I  find  it 
necessary  to  return  occasionally  to  the  chateau,  I 
will  be  careful,  Mademoiselle,  to  avoid  thrusting  my 
unwelcome  presence  upon  you.     I  shall  soon — shall 

soon — be  gone " 

I  felt  a  sudden  faintness  stealing  o'er  my  body, 
and  then  came  a  great  stab  of  pain  ;  but  I  caught 
at  the  high  mantel  and  swung  back  against  the  wall, 
fighting  the  agony.  Aurelie  stood  gazing  upon  me, 
floods  of  wonder  pouring  from  her  eyes  ;  and  as  I 
lost  my  hold  and  swayed  to  and  fro,  I  swear  that 
she  almost  involuntarily  took  a  swift  step  towards 
my  aid.  I  staggered  once  more  with  a  tipsy,  spin- 
ning reel,  gave  a  savage  laugh  at  my  powerlessness, 
and  sank  slowly  down,  Mademoiselle  bending  over 
me. 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE    INCONSISTENCIES  OF  WOMAN 

It  was  nigh  midnight  when  my  wits  returned,  and 
I  found  myself  drowsing  in  my  chamber.  A  woman 
was  near — I  could  hear  the  soft  rustle  of  her  gown 
— and  looking  up,  I  beheld  Aurelie  standing  by  the 
lattice.  She  was  dressed  in  black ;  and  presently, 
thinking  I  still  slept,  she  moved  across  the  room  on 
tiptoe,  and  I  saw  that  a  little  cluster  of  winter  roses 
nestled  in  her  white  bosom.  Heavens !  what  a 
superb  presence  was  hers — so  full  of  grace  and  im- 
measurable charm  ! — and  what  a  divine  face !  A 
delicate  strength  shone  in  every  feature,  and  there 
was  a  glow  in  her  eyes  which  I  had  never  seen 
before — very  sweet  and  subdued,  like  a  lanthorn 
shining  through  the  snows. 

After   busying   her   lithe    fingers   awhile    among 

some  small  phials,  she  approached  the  bed,  and  I 

immediately  pretended  to  be  wrapped  in  slumber. 

She  lowered  her   face  until  I  felt  her  light  breath 

upon  my  cheek,  and  for  a  long  time  she  seemed  to 
94 


THE  INCONSISTENCIES  OF  WOMAN       95 

be  listening  to  the  beating  of  nny  heart.  Her  head  ' 
was  close  to  my  breast — her  russet-gold  hair  was 
touching  me.  It  is  hard  to  win  a  woman's  love — 
easy  to  gain  her  sympathy,  and  as  I  lay  there, 
passive,  I  could  not  help  thinking  what  a  scene 
would  occur  if  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri  en- 
tered. Of  a  sudden  I  stirred  a  little,  and  opened 
my  eyes,  and  in  an  instant  Mademoiselle  Aurelie 
drew  back  as  though  stung.  Two  candles  burned 
in  the  chamber,  and,  taking  one  of  them  in  her  hand, 
she  held  it  so  that  the  glow  might  fall  upon  my 
face,  and  a  slight  flush,  perhaps  of  fear,  crept  into 
her  pale  cheek  as  I  rose  on  my  arm  and  looked  at 
her.  The  great  clock  of  the  chateau  struck  twelve, 
and  then  the  silence  was  intense. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  I  said  at  last, — "  Mademoiselle 
de  Cheverny  ! " 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  with  very  soft  distinctness. 
"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  To  thank  you  for  being  an  angel,"  I  murmured. 

"  I  am  only  a  woman,"  she  answered.  "You  are 
better,  Monsieur,  and  I  will  go  and  ask  M.  le  Mar- 
quis de  Merivale  to  watch  by  your  side  until  day- 
break." 

"  Nay,  nay  ;  I  will  not  have  him  here,"  I  said. 
"  Monsieur  has  no  love  for  me,  and  I  have  none  for 
him.     We   should    quarrel    before    the    night    had 


96        FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

passed.  Did  you  intend  staying  till  dawn  in  my 
chamber,  Mademoiselle,—  you,  with  your  grief  and 
your  weariness  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  admitted,  and  her  voice  was  lower 
than  ever. 

^'Why?"  I  asked. 

"  You  have  been  our  guest,"  she  said,  "  and  I 
thought  that  perhaps  I  might — have — wronged  you 
a  little, — I  thought,  after  all,  you  might  have  spoken 
the  truth,  and  that  my  father  did  wound  you  with 
his  sword.  And  if  I  hated  you,  I  could  not  let  you 
die." 

"  Die,  Mademoiselle  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  The  hurt 
is  nothing.  I  have  lost  some  hot  blood  and  am 
weakened,  but  in  a  few  days  I  hope  to  be  able  to 
leave  you  in  peace  at  Cheverny." 

She  was  silent  awhile.  Then  she  said,  almost  in 
a  whisper : 

"  I  pray  God  you  may." 

Her  words  tore  my  heart,  and  I  began  to  wonder 
what  had  come  to  me.  Mademoiselle  Aurelie,  and 
not  Madame  la  Duchesse,  seemed  to  hold  the 
power  of  making  me  blithe  or  sad — of  creating  my 
Heaven  and  my  Hell  ;  and  the  longer  I  gazed  at 
her  supple,  girlish  form,  and  let  my  eyes  dwell  on 
the  pure  loveliness  of  her  face,  the  more  her  pres- 
ence entranced  me. 


THE  INCONSISTENCIES  OF  WOMAN       97 

It  was  a  witching  hour,  too,  this  of  the  midnight, 
and  lent  a  subtle  glamour  to  my  dreamy  reflections 
on  what  my  life  might  have  been  had  such  a  woman 
as  Aurelie  crept  into  it  ten  long  years  ago,  before 
the  passion  for  the  dice,  and  the  duel,  and  the  gay 
world  laid  hold  of  my  soul  and  dragged  it  low  in 
the  mire. 

Well,  well !  all  of  us  men  have  our  little  fling  and 
pay  for  it,  and  there  is  no  sin  on  earth  or  sea  which 
can  be  bought  save  through  a  price, — all  women, 
too,  must  have  their  little  romance,  and  Madame 
la  Duchesse  was  scarcely  one  to  take  her  hand  out 
of  the  fire,  if  it  gave  her  pleasure  to  keep  it  there. 
Did  she  really  love  me,  or  were  her  professions  of 
affection,  and  her  promises,  and  her  caresses,  only  a 
part  of  an  intrigue  between  the  Regent,  M.  I'Abbe 
Dubois,  and  herself — a  temptation  to  lure  me  to  the 
oath  I  had  taken  that  I  might  save  them  all  from 
the  possible  humiliation  of  quarters  in  the  Bastille, 
by  wrecking  this  plot  of  the  Duchesse  du  Maine, 
the  Cardinal  Alberoni,  and  the  Chevalier  de  Che- 
verny,  which,  had  it  ripened  and  succeeded,  would 
have  most  certainly  dealt  a  death-blow  to  the 
Regency  and  the  gaieties  and  follies  M.  le  Due  and 
his  daughter  were  said  to  love  ? 

For  the  first  time  I  began  to  feel  suspicious  of 
the  Duchesse,  and  for  the  second  time  I  began 
7 


98       FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

to  compare  her  unfavourably  with  Mademoiselle. 
These  stories  of  Madame — there  might,  after  all,  be 
some  truth  in  them,  and  I  had  been  so  long  an  alien 
that  my  three  days'  stay  in  Paris  scarcely  gave  me 
an  opportunity  of  gleaning  every  shred  of  scandal 
which  buzzed  in  the  air  ;  and  then,  Heaven  knows, 
I  was  never  cursed  by  being  born  a  gossip.  But  if 
Madame  la  Duchesse  had  played  me  false  ?  I 
shook  with  rage  at  the  thought,  and  I  think  Aurelie 
imagined  me  delirious,  for  she  brought  a  cooling 
draught,  and  was  surprised  to  see  me  take  it  from 
her  fingers  with  quite  a  brave  show  of  my  old  swift 
energy. 

"  You  are  certainly  much  better,  Monsieur,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  shall  now  leave  you." 

"  One  moment,  Mademoiselle,"  I  urged,  stretch- 
ing out  my  hand  ;  "  M.  le  Chevalier,  my  uncle,  pos- 
sessed some  letters  from  the  Cardinal  Alberoni  and 
Madame  la  Duchesse  du  Maine  concerning  the 
intrigue  in  which  he  intended  to  play  so  prominent 
a  part.     They  must  not  be  left  here." 

"And  why  not?"  she  asked,  standing  by  the 
door  with  a  restless  bosom  and  blazing  eyes.  "  I, 
too,  am  implicated.  Monsieur:  Madame  la  Duchesse 
du  Maine  is  my  very  dear  friend,  and  if  anyone  is 
faithful  enough  to  hold  the  key  to  so  great  a  con- 
spiracy   it   is   Aurelie    de    Cheverny.     I    hate   the 


THE  INCONSISTENCIES  OF  WOMAN       99 

Regent,  I  loathe  Madame  de  Berri,  and  I  have 
nothing  but  a  curse  for  M.  I'Abbe  Dubois  !  They 
are  ruining  France  !  " 

Her  foot  was  playing  its  old  quick  tune  on  the 
floor,  and  her  pose  was  magnificent.  Sang  Dieu  ! 
she  was  a  girl  of  a  million. 

"  You  are  too  passionate,  Mademoiselle,"  I  re- 
turned— ''  glorious,  but  too  full  of  fire  ;  and  if  you 
will  hearken  to  me,  and  trust  me,  I  think  I  can  show 
you  how  to  deal  with  the  letters." 

"  I  am  listening,  Monsieur,"  she  said. 

"  Why  not  send  them  to  M.  le  Cardinal  ?  "  I  con- 
tinued. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  they  are  too  precious.  Madame  la  Du- 
chesse  du  Maine  has  written  me  more  than  once 
with  regard  to  the  possibility  of  my  father's  death." 

*'  What  did  Madame  advise?"  I  inquired. 

"  Why  should  I  tell  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  M.  le  Chevalier  trusted  me,"  I  returned,  and  her 
eyes  softened. 

"  That  in  case  of  emergency  they  should  be  sent 
to  the  Cardinal,"  she  said,  without  hesitation. 

"  Exactly,"  I  replied.  "  Her  suggestion  is  mine. 
To  whom  did  she  contemplate  entrusting  the  let- 
ters?" 

"  To  a  gentleman  who  is  now  dead,"   Mademoi- 


loo      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

selle  answered.  "  He  was  once  a  friend  of  hers,  but 
had  become  a  gamester  and  a  soldier  of  fortune. 
The  other  day,  however,  she  heard  of  his  return  to 
Paris  from  Italy,  and  wrote  me  saying  she  hoped  to 
arrange  an  interview,  and  admit  him  to  the  com- 
spiracy." 

"  How  did  she  know  he  w^ould  join  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Heaven  knows,"  she  replied.  ''  Madame  du 
Maine  can  do  anything  with  a  man." 

"  She  is  certainly  a  clever  little  woman,"  I  said. 
"  Well,  and  what  then.  Mademoiselle  ?  " 

Her  tears  came  again,  very  fast  and  bright. 

"  If  anything  should  happen  to  my  father,  this 
gentleman  would  hold  the  threads  of  the  whole  in- 
trigue. He  was  an  accomplished  duellist,  gifted  in 
diplomacy,  extremely  faithful  in  friendship  and  the 
most  dashing  adventurer  in  all  France  !  That  was 
Madame's  opinion  of  him." 

"  Extraordinarily  well  summed  up,"  I  commented. 
"  And  what  was  his  name  ?  " 

"  M.  le  Vicomte  de  Championnet." 

**  The  Vicomte  de  Championnet  ?  " 

I  gasped  for  breath  like  a  dying  man,  and  how  in 
the  name  of  the  devil  I  smothered  my  astonishment 
I  cannot  tell,  but  give  you  my  word  that  Mademoi- 
selle suspected  nothing — so  excellent  an  actor  had  I 
become. 


THE  INCONSISTENCIES  OF  WOMAN      loi 

"  Then  M.  le  Vicomte  is  dead  ?  "     I  exclaimed. 

*'  Yes,  Monsieur,"  she  replied,  "  he  is  dead.  He 
was  killed  in  a  duel  near  Pontigny  by  some  unknown 
person,  and  Madame  du  Maine  has  lost  a  great  hope, 
and  one  who  might  have  been  an  incomparable  friend 
to  our  cause." 

'*  But  if  de  Championnet  was  so  fine  a  duellist  how 
came  he  to  fall,  Mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  You  ask  a  riddle,"  she  replied.  ''  God  may  be 
able  to  answer  it,  but  none  else.  He  was  run 
through  the  neck." 

"  His  opponent  must  have  been  the  neatest  rascal 
with  a  rapier  in  Europe,  and  I  should  like  to  meet 
him." 

''You  !  "  she  said,  and  there  was  such  contempt 
in  her  voice  that  the  blood  raced  in  my  body.  This 
girl  was  enough  to  madden  the  saints  ! 

''  Yes,  I,  Cousin  Aurelie  !  "  I  answered,  in  a  sibilant 
tone  which  roused  her  to  unutterable  fury. 

"  You  presume  too  much.  Monsieur  ;  you  are  in- 
sufferably familiar  !  "  she  cried. 

"  I  shall  be  as  familiar  as  I  please.  Mademoiselle," 
I  replied,  my  temper  getting  the  better  of  my  cour- 
tesy. "  The  de  Cheverny  blood  runs  in  my  veins  as 
well  as  yours." 

''Yes,  that  is  the  devil  of  it  all !  "  she  stormed — 
*'  that  you — so  low,  so  base,  so  savouring  of  the  ca- 


I02      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

naille — should  bear  my  name.  Oh,  how  can  God  let 
such  a  scoundrel  breathe  !  " 

"  ril  bring  you  to  my  feet  !  "  I  said,  throwing 
the  clothes  from  my  breast,  and  leaning  forward  to 
glare  at  her. 

For  a  moment  she  stood  rigid — her  eyes  dilating 
and  flaming — her  bosom  tossing  like  the  sea  ;  then 
stooping  a  little,  she  suddenly  flung  her  right  hand 
at  my  mouth,  fetching  a  tiny  stream  of  blood  from 
my  lips.  I  wrenched  my  body  about  in  a  fit  wild 
rage,  but  the  pain  of  my  wound  caught  me  again 
and  held  me  powerless,  so  that  I  sank  back  once 
more  and  lay  still. 

The  chateau  was  very  silent,  but  the  wind  snored 
as  it  drowsed  among  the  trees,  and  the  occasional 
baying  of  a  hound  came  like  the  sound  of  a  deep, 
sonorous  bell  through  the  cold  night.  The  lattice 
was  uncurtained,  and  I  could  see  the  bright  stars 
winking  in  the  clear  heavens,  and  a  stray  moonbeam 
crept  into  the  chamber  to  war  with  the  red  candle- 
glow.  Then  something  seemed  to  fall,  and  I  glanced 
up  to  find  Mademoiselle  Aurelie  lying  upon  her  face 
on  the  floor.  At  first  I  thought  she  had  fainted, 
but  when  the  room  echoed  with  her  low  sobs,  I 
began  to  wonder  afresh  at  the  inconsistencies  of 
woman  ;  but  I  durst  not  break  the  silence.  Nay, 
even  in  my  passion,  I  v;as  wise,  and  stayed  as  one 


THE  INCONSISTENCIES  OF  WOMAN      103 

dead  until  she  slowly  arose  and  came  creeping  on  her 
knees  towards  my  bed,  her  little  wet  handkerchief 
in  her  hand.  She  never  spoke  ;  but  although  I  kept 
my  eyes  closed  to  her,  I  could  feel  that  she  was 
wiping  the  blood  from  my  lips,  and  when  an  instant 
later  the  light  tapping  of  her  heels,  and  the  opening 
and  shutting  of  the  door,  told  me  she  had  gone,  I 
found  the  cluster  of  winter  roses  from  her  warm 
bosom  scattered  on  my  breast. 

The  night  wore  through,  but  I  saw  her  no  more, 
and  dawn  brought  to  my  side  a  lady  named  Madame 
Rochette,  who  nursed  me  well  during  the  succeed- 
ing week,  and  when  one  day  I  dressed  and  tottered 
out  upon  the  terrace,  lo  !  there  was  M.  le  Comte 
d'Anquital,  and  I  cursed  the  very  sight  of  him. 
What  could  he  be  doing  at  Cheverny?  M.  le  Che- 
valier lay  deep  in  his  grave  :  Aurelie,  yielding  to 
the  persuasions  of  M.  le  Marquis,  had  accompanied 
him  in  a  ride  to  the  village,  and  I  was  left  alone  to 
do  the  honours  of  the  chateau. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  cardinal's   LETTERS 

M.  LE  COMTE  surveyed  me  with  an  extremely- 
subtle  smile,  and,  crossing  his  feet,  lounged  against 
the  balustrade — a  lithe,  fair  man,  very  fascinating 
among  women,  but  the  wickedest  rascal  on  God's 
earth  ;  and  his  manner  was  so  jauntily  insolent  that 
I  knew  in  a  moment  he  bore  a  commission  from 
Dubois  or  the  Regent.  I  am  naturally  as  shrewd  as 
the  devil,  and  suspicion  leapt  into  my  heart  like  a 
weasel  into  a  pheasant's  nest. 

"  Good-morning,  Monsieur  !  "  I  cried,  recover- 
ing a  little  of  my  old  swash-buckling  swagger, — a 
swagger  that  I  generally  assumed  while  dealing 
with  men  like  d'Anquital.  ''  To  whom  am  I  in- 
debted for  the  honour  of  this  visit  ?  " 

He  began  to  laugh  and  beat  a  merry  tune  on  his 
boot  with  his  riding-switch. 

"  I  am  the  Comte  d'Anquital,  at    your   service, 

Monsieur ! "  he  cried.     "  Am  I    addressing   M.   de 

Cheverny  ?  " 
104 


THE  CARDINAL'S  LETTERS  105 

''  M.  Silvain  de  Cheverny  !  "  I  corrected.  "  My 
uncle,  M.  le  Chevalier,  was  buried  four  days  ago." 

''  And  you  are  in  possession  of  Cheverny  ?  " 

"  Exactly  !  "  I  returned,  damning  his  inquisitive 
impudence.  A  quick  fear  silenced  further  words. 
D'Anquital  might  have  recognised  me  :  but  no,  my 
disguise  was  too  perfect. 

''  I  am  come  here  at  the  instance  of  Monseigneur 
the  Regent  of  France,  to  prepare  you  for  a  little 
surprise,"  chimed  M.  le  Comte. 

*' Indeed  !  "     I  said.     '' Enlighten  me,  Monsieur?  " 

"  Monseigneur  is  about  to  pay  a  visit  to  Che- 
verny," he  replied,  and  as  I  live,  I  saw  the  rogue's 
face  flame  into  a  blazing  smile  of  unutterable  satis- 
faction when  my  eyes  widened,  though  I  swear  I 
never  so  much  as  shifted  a  muscle  or  rufifled  an 
eyebrow. 

"  I  shall  be  more  than  honoured,  Monsieur. 
Does  he  travel  alone?  " 

'*  M   I'Abbe  Dubois  will  accompany  him  !  " 

"  Oh  !  "  I  remarked. 

"And  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri." 

*'  Ah  !  "  I  cooed,  with  a  tightness  over  my 
heart. 

"  Yes,  they  are  all  coming  incognito." 

**  'Tis  remarkably  kind  of  them,"  I  replied.  '^  A 
glass  of  Rousillon,  Monsieur,  or  a  cup  of  Burgundy  ? 


io6      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

Your  long  ride  must  have  tired  you.  Where  is 
your  horse?  At  the  stables?  That  is  well,  and  I 
am  glad  you  are  making  yourself  at  home.  Is  your 
stay  likely  to  be  long  ?  " 

''As  long  as  M.  le  Due  pleases,"  he  said  ;  and  I 
took  a  short,  limping  strut  along  the  terrace,  think- 
ing hard. 

'*  You  are  lame.  Monsieur,"  exclaimed  d'Anquital. 

"  A  kick  of  my  horse,"  I  returned. 

"  The  world  is  productive  of  hard  kicks,"  he  com- 
mented, smiling  again.  "  We  must  get  used  to 
them,  M.  de  Cheverny." 

"Yes,  and  to  fortune's  sword-thrusts,"  I  mur- 
mured. "  One  can  never  tell  when  the  next  may 
come.  To  be  a  philosopher,  Monsieur — that  is  the 
thing!  Ah,  here  is  Mademoiselle  Aurelie — my 
cousin,  M.  le  Comte." 

He  swept  around,  and  watching  him  well,  I  saw 
an  amorous  light  dance  to  his  eyes  at  the  first  sight 
of  her,  and  I  swear  she  looked  glorious  enough  to 
turn  any  man's  head.  She  wore  her  white  and 
silver  riding-dress,  and  a  little  red  hat  was  cocked 
daintily  on  her  short,  tossing  locks,  'mid  which  the 
winter  sun  sought  for  threads  of  gold  and  found 
them  plentiful :  her  cheeks  were  crimsoned  by  the 
keen  north  wind,  and  there  was  something  in  her 
eyes  that  tugged  at  my  soul  until   all  that  was  best 


THE  CARDINAL'S  LETTERS  107 

and  purest   in  me  fought  'gainst    the   vows  I   had 
made  to  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri. 

"  Sang  bleu  !  and  who  is  her  companion?  "  asked 
d'Anquital. 

''  M.  le  Marquis  de  Merivale,"  I  replied. 

"  The  Englishman  !     What  does  he  do  here  ?  " 

"  Are  you  acquainted  with  him,  Monsieur  ?  " 

''  To  my  cost !  "  he  said,  in  a  snarl.  "  M.  le  Mar- 
quis won  a  thousand  gold  louis  from  me  in  Paris 
two  months  ago." 

"  How,  Monsieur?" 

"  Cocks,"  he  replied  ;  and  I  laughed  softly. 

"You  have  now  your  chance  of  revenge,"  I  said. 
''  M.  le  Marquis  is  always  ready  to  lay  a  wager,  and 
I  believe  he  is  a  very  fine  swordsman." 

"The  best  in  all  Europe,"  returned  d'Anquital. 

"  One  has  only  to  look  at  him  to  see  that  he  can 
fence,"  I  reflected.  "  But  here  he  comes.  Permit 
me  to  present  him  again  to  you,  M.  le  Comte." 

"  He  will  remember  me,"  said  d'Anquital ;  and  at 
that  moment  Aurelie  dismounted  and  came  upon 
the  terrace,  leaving  the  Marquis  to  call  for  the 
grooms.  I  faced  her  with  my  usual  sangfroid,  and 
although  Mademoiselle's  bright  eyes  met  mine  very 
straightly,  I  did  not  flinch  from  her  clear  gaze. 

"  You  are  recovered,  Monsieur,"  she  remarked, 
"  and  I  am  glad  to  find  you  so  well  able  to  walk." 


io8     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

Her  words  were  like  balm  poured  into  a  raw 
wound,  and  I  could  have  blessed  her  for  them. 

*'  Mademoiselle  is  more  than  kind,"  I  said.  And 
I  give  you  my  oath  I  felt  the  hot  tears  leap  to  my 
eyes.  She  saw  them.  Her  face  flushed  like  a  swift 
glow  of  warm  sunset  over  a  snowy  cloud,  and  she 
turned  her  pretty  head  aside  to  steal  a  glance  at 
d'Anquital,  who  stood  smiling  and  ogling  her  in  the 
fashion  of  the  insufferable  Paris  beau.  Sacre  !  I  felt 
it  hard  to  keep  my  fingers  from  his  throat ;  and 
when  the  rascal  made  a  swinging  bow,  clapped  his 
hand  to  his  breast,  and  presented  himself  as  "  M.  le 
Comte  d'Anquital,  honoured  by  the  friendship  of  M. 
le  Due  d'Orleans,  by  whom  he  was  sent  to  Cheverny," 
Mademoiselle's  face  was  something  to  see. 

"And  what  does  M.  le  Comte  desire  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Naught  but  the  constant  sunshine  of  your 
smiles,  Mademoiselle." 

"  Alas  !  there  is  no  sunshine  at  Cheverny,"  she 
rephed.  "  Monsieur,  am  I  right  in  imagining  you 
have  brought  me  a  message  from  Paris  ?  " 

''  Mademoiselle,"  said  d'Anquital,  "  I  am  here  by 
command  of  Monseigneur  the  Regent  of  France." 

"And  why  ?"  she  cried.  "To  request  my  pres- 
ence at  the  Palais-Royal  ?  " 

M.  le  Comte  leered. 

"  Not  yet,  Mademoiselle," 


THE  CARDINAL'S  LETTERS  109 

**  To  spy  upon  me,  then  !  You  have  a  tell-tale 
face,  Monsieur  ;  and,  to  be  perfectly  frank,  you  do 
not  seem  to  be  here  on  the  errand  of  a  gentleman." 

M.  le  Comte  breathed  a  curse,  and  Mademoiselle 
surpassed  herself  with  a  delightful  little  laugh  of 
disdain  and  a  tigerish  swing  of  her  body  which 
brought  her  back  to  the  view  of  d'Anquital,  and  his 
face  was  a  picture  that  hangs  in  my  memory  to  this 
day.  I  knew  the  fellow  was  a  scoundrel,  but  I  freely 
confess  that  I  was  startled  to  see  how  he  showed  his 
teeth  at  Mademoiselle's  contempt. 

"  Here,"  I  said  to  myself,  *'  is  a  villain  who  will 
need  a  close  watch,"  and  I  could  feel  my  strength 
flooding  back  to  my  limbs,  while  I  thirstily  regarded 
him  with  a  sharp  desire  to  face  his  rapier  in  a  last 
bout  sometime  at  night,  in  a  place  of  romance  where 
I  might  leave  him  picturesquely  stretched  upon  his 
back — the  glare  of  a  white  moon  strong  on  his  rigid 
body  and  wide-throv/n  arms.  It  was  a  strange  im- 
agining :  this  dream  of  the  killing  of  a  man  ;  but 
there  was  a  wicked  smile  round  M.le  Comte's  mouth 
that  roused  all  the  passion  in  my  nature  and  made 
my  heart  cry  out  for  his  blood. 

"  It  seems  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny  is  still  mis- 
tress of  the  chateau  !  "  purred  d'Anquital,  after  a 
long  pause.  ''And  yet  a  few  minutes  ago  Monsieur 
Silvain  confessed  himself  its  master." 


no      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Take  your  commands  from  Mademoiselle,  M.  le 
Comte,"  I  replied.     "  Her  will  is  mine." 

"  Indeed !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  swift  elevation 
of  his  eyebrows.  "  May  I  present  my  most  delicate 
congratulations  to  you  both  ?  A  charming  choice, 
Monsieur :  Mademoiselle,  an  excellent  alliance ! 
When  is  the  wedding  to  be  ?  " 

She  gave  a  low  cry  ;  and  if  looks  could  kill,  the 
flash  of  her  eyes  would  have  laid  M.  le  Comte  at  her 
feet  when  she  swept  around  and  lashed  him  with 
her  inimitable  scorn. 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  "  she  cried.  ''  What  rats  exist,  call- 
ing themselves  men  !  And  it  seems  the  coarsest 
come  from  the  gutters  of  the  Palais-Royal.  Mon- 
sieur mon  cousin,  take  this  gentleman  and  throw 
him  from  the  terrace,  or,  still  better,  let  the  dogs 
chase  him  out  of  your  sight !  " 

I  was  amazed — stunned — petrified,  and  yet  my 
heart  leapt  with  a  thousand  palpitations  of  unspeak- 
able joy.  Mademoiselle  had  deigned  to  call  me 
cousin,  she  had  claimed  my  aid  in  ridding  her  of  M. 
le  Comte,  and  she  had  acknowledged  me  as  master 
of  Cheverny.  She  had  claimed  my  aid,  I  say,  and 
yet  I  could  not  aid  her,  as  I  longed  to  do,  by  fling- 
ing d'Anquital  down  among  the  thorns  and  the 
winter  roses  of  the  chateau  parterre.  No,  that  v/ould 
not  have  been  wise  :  it  would  not  have  been  diplo-^ 


THE  CARDINAL'S  LETTERS  iii 

macy,  and  for  my  own  sake  and  for  Aurelie's  peace 
I  refrained  from  drawing  sword  on  M.  le  Comte,  or 
laying  hands  upon  him.  And  it  may  be,  had  I  done 
so,  he  would  have  had  the  better  of  it,  I  being  still 
fitter  for  the  bed-chamber  than  the  duel. 

"  Chase  him  out  of  my  sight  !  "  cried  Mademoi- 
selle, pointing  her  little  gloved  hand  at  d'Anquital. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  I  returned,  "  for  the  moment 
let  him  live,  and  I  promise  you,  when  the  time 
comes,  the  rat  shall  return  to  the  Palais-Royal 
drains." 

"  Coward  !  "  she  hissed,  and  swept  into  the  salon, 
whither  I  followed  her,  leaving  M.  le  Comte  to  his 
reflections. 

**  Coward  !  "  she  cried  again,  and  closing  the  doors, 
I  locked  them  fast,  and,  limping  towards  her,  pro- 
ceeded to  tame  her  Amazonian  spirit  by  the  assump- 
tion of  a  masterful  manner  that  seemed  to  take  away 
her  breath,  leaving  her  to  stare  at  me  in  utter  aston- 
ishment— her  eyes  big  and  shining,  and  some  of 
her  pretty  teeth  glistening  'twixt  the  crimson  of  her 
lips,  for  all  the  world  like  tiny  lily-bells  peeping 
through  the  beauty  of  a  damask  rose. 

"  Mon  Grand  Dieu,  Mademoiselle!  "  I  said,  "you 
will  drive  me  to  extremities,  and  I'll  have  to  lay  my 
riding-whip  'cross  your  soft  flesh,  if  you  persist  in 
being  such  a  wilful  little  fool !     Yes,  you  stare,  you 


112      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

stamp,  you  burn,  but  I  am  forced  to  forget  that  you 
are  chatelaine  here,  and  to  treat  you  as  a  father 
might  treat  an  incorrigible  child.  Could  you  not 
see  that  this  d'Anquital  held  power  in  his  hands : 
do  you  not  recognise  that  the  scoundrel  is  in  the  pay 
of  Monseigneur  the  Regent  of  France,  and  that  he 
has  come  to  spy  out  the  land  ?  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans 
has  discovered  that  M.  le  Chevalier  was  waist-deep 
in  an  intrigue  to  upset  the  Regency,  and  has  sent 
this  fellow,  at  the  first  intimation  of  your  father's 
death,  to  secure  any  papers  which  may  be  secreted 
here.  As  soon  as  they  are  found  the  chateau  will 
be  invaded,  probably  by  M.  le  Due  and  the  villain 
Dubois  ;  and  Madame  la  Duchesse  du  Maine,  your 
very  dear  friend,  w^ill  find  herself  in  a  devil  of  a  hole 
— possibly  in  the  Bastille,  or  later  on  the  scaffold, 
while  Alberoni,  the  fox,  will  be  laughed  at  by  all  the 
world  ;  and  the  incomparable  plot  that  M.  le  Che- 
valier and  his  co-conspirators  took  such  infinite  pains 
to  nurse  and  to  foster  Avill  be  blown  like  a  bubble 
on  the  winds  of  the  ridicule  of  Europe.  Mark  my 
words  well.  Mademoiselle — think  them  over,  and  be 
wise  in  time." 

She  was  breathless,  and  so  was  I  ;  but,  by  Heaven, 
I  had  fooled  her  into  something  like  a  childish  belief 
and  confidence,  not  only  in  my  loyalty  to  the  Che- 
valier's intrigue  and  my  excellent   diplomacy,  but 


THE  CARDINAL'S  LETTERS  113 

also  into  a  silent  confession  that  she  knew  at  last  I 
had  no  other  desire  than  to  befriend  her  through 
fair  weather  and  foul. 

''  When  the  fitting  day  or  night  comes,  I  will  kill 
this  d'Anquital !  "  I  continued  :  "  but  for  the  present, 
Mademoiselle,  you  must  allow  him  to  remain  at 
Cheverny,  even  as  I,  an  unbidden  guest — you  must 
bear  with  his  insults,  you  must  suffer  his  insolence, 
and  trust  to  me  for  the  payment  of  all.  And  more 
than  that,  you  must  give  me  your  entire  confidence, 
and  if  I  am  to  save  you  and  Madame  du  Maine,  and 
to  counterplot  against  this  Comte  d'Anquital,  so 
that  his  spying  here  may  end  in  failure  and  shame — 
why,  Mademoiselle,  we  must,  at  the  least,  be  good 
comrades-in-arms,  if  not  good  friends." 

There  came  a  sudden  silence,  and  then  Aurelie,  in 
the  most  charming  manner  imaginable,  stretched 
out  her  hands  with  a  sweetness  that  took  my  vile 
heart  by  storm. 

''  And  why  not  good  friends?  "  she  cried.  "  Sil- 
vain,  I  have  wronged  you,  I  have  thought  you  false 
when  you  were  true,  and  that  story  of  your  killing 
a  man  and  a  woman  under  the  shadow  of  Notre 
Dame  was  a  lie  !  " 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  it  was  not  a  lie,  Mademoiselle." 

"  Then    you    had    great    provocation — you    were 

never  low,  and  cruel,  and  base — you  were  never  a 
8 


TI4     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

scoundrel  and  a  murderer  as  once  I  thought  you 
were.  Christ  and  His  Mother  pity  and  forgive 
me." 

"And  Christ  and  His  Mother  pity  and  forgive 
me,"  I  murmured. 

"  For  what  ?  "  she  flashed  out. 

*'  For  my  sins,  Mademoiselle  !  Think  of  me  again 
as  the  Silvain  you  knew  in  your  childhood.  I  have 
been  low :  I  have  been  base,  I  have  been  a  scoun- 
drel, and  you  have  only  to  remember  my  doings  at 
Cheverny  ten  years  ago  to  once  more  bring  back 
your  hate  of  me." 

She  shuddered,  and  tightened  the  grip  of  her 
little  strong  fingers  on  my  hands. 

"  But  you  are  different  now,"  she  whispered.  "  I 
cannot  tell  how,  but  you  seem  more  of  the  gentil- 
homme  than  the  Silvain  of  my  old  memories,  and 
there's  a  strength  in  your  face  that  wins  one's 
admiration — even  against  all  hatred,  all  fear,  and  all 
contempt, — and  I  should  not  be  a  true  woman  if  I 
liked  not  a  good  strong  man." 

Was  there  ever  such  a  sublime  submission  ?  Ma- 
demoiselle, in  an  exquisite  surrender,  had  sacrificed 
herself  once  and  forever  on  the  altar  of  a  contrition 
to  which  I  never  dreamed  she  would  kneel  :  she  had 
offered  the  incense  of  sorrow  and  humility  for  a 
scorn  which  I  deserved  a  million  times  over :  and  I, 


THE  CARDINAL'S  LETTERS  115 

the  liar,  the  hypocrite,  the  traitor,  was  playuig  her 
false  as  I  had  done  so  many  times  before  with  a 
smiling  face  and  a  heart  of  gall.  To  win  her  confi- 
dence— that  had  been  my  aim  from  the  day  I  first 
set  foot  within  the  chateau,  and  Sang  Dieu  !  at  last 
I  had  brought  her  to  her  knees,  and  there  was  some 
hope  of  my  mission  being  accomplished  before  the 
arrival  of  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans  and  Madame  la 
Duchesse  de  Berri.  Yet,  even  at  that  moment  of 
joyless  triumph,  I  little  imagined  how  completely 
Aur61ie  was  throwing  herself  upon  my  faith,  my 
honour,  and  my  friendship. 

"  Silvain  !  "  she  whispered,  standing  on  tiptoe  to 
breathe  the  words  into  my  ear :  "  you  are  my  only 
hope  ;  you  must  take  my  father's  place — you  must 
hold  the  Cardinal's  and  Madame  du  Maine's  letters. 
Come  with  me,  I  will  give  them  to  you — come 
now." 

**  Mademoiselle!"  I  said,  and  my  voice  was  like 
the  hoarse  croak  of  a  raven, — "  Mademoiselle 
Aurelie,  I  must  think  awhile!  Let  me  think — for 
God's  sake  let  me  think !  " 

Great  Heaven,  how  this  girl's  trust  stabbed  and 
tore  at  my  heart !  I  shivered  as  I  stood  by  her 
side,  feeling  her  warm  breath  on  my  cheek — her 
hand  in  mine — her  touch  thrilling  me  through  and 
through.     The  game  was  won  !     Fortune  and  power 


ii6      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

lay  before  me.  Madame  was  mine,  and  I  could 
claim  her  when  I  pleased  if  only  I  would  follow 
Mademoiselle  to  some  secret  cupboard  or  secretaire 
and  take  from  her  hands  that  priceless  bundle  of 
conspiracy.  The  battle  was  long,  and  when  I 
turned  my  face  once  more  towards  Aurelie  it  must 
have  been  fierce  and  white  enough  to  frighten  her. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  in  a  voice  no  louder  than 
a  whisper,  '*  I  have  thought  the  matter  well  out,  and 
the  letters  will  be  safer  in  my  hands  than  in  yours. 
Show  me  where  they  are  hidden." 

Her  eyes  lighted  up  with  a  wonderful  brilliance. 

"  You  make  me  glad !  "  she  cried.  ''  When  I 
have  given  you  the  secret,  I  shall  feel  I  have  done 
something  to  atone  for  my  bitterness  to  you — and 
for  my  shameful  words, — and  it  may  be  you  will  be 
able  to  forgive  me.     Come,  Silvain  !  " 

"  Lead  the  way,  Mademoiselle,"  I  replied,  "  and 
I  will  follow." 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   COMING   OF   MADAME   LA   DUCHESSE 

It  was  three  days  later,  and  drawing  nigh  to 
midnight,  when  Monseigneur  the  Regent,  Madame 
de  Berri,  and  M.  I'Abbe  Dubois  arrived  at  the 
chateau. 

I  happened  to  be  playing  lansquenet  with  M.  le 
Comte  and  the  Marquis  de  Merivale,  judging  it 
good  policy  to  make  myself  perfectly  amicable 
and  courteous,  seeing  that  one  was  my  guest 
by  necessity,  and  the  other  had  extended  his 
visit  at  the  invitation  of  Mademoiselle  Aurelie. 
Our  company  was  made  complete  by  the  pres- 
ence of  an  old  friend  of  M.  le  Chevalier's  named 
M.  Maury  de  Saint-Cloud,  who  had  called  to  pay 
his  consolations  to  Aurelie ;  and  when  I  pressed 
him  to  make  a  night  of  it,  he  generously  responded. 
We  had  all,  I  think,  been  drinking  deeply — I  to 
drown  the  wasp  of  remorse  that  had  never  ceased 
to  sting  me  from  the  moment  I  accepted  the  letters 

at  Mademoiselle's  hands,  and  the  others  drank  for 

117 


ii8      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

devilry,  like  true  gentlemen  of  France — when  the 
ripping  sound  of  wheels  tearing  over  gravel  forced 
me  to  move  to  the  lattice,  and  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  M.  le  Due's  coach  sweeping  round  to  the  right  of 
the  terrace. 

"  Mille  Diables  !  "  I  muttered.  ''  Another  hour 
and  I  shall  know  my  fate.  M.  le  Comte  " — and 
now  my  voice  was  clear  and  sharp  as  a  pistol-shot, 
— "  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans  has  come  !  " 

The  cards  fell  from  his  fingers,  and  he  glanced  up 
at  me  with  a  swift  gleam  of  his  teeth. 

"  Allons,  Monsieur  !  "  he  said  ;  and  we  swung  to- 
gether out  of  the  room,  leaving  M.  Maury  de  Saint- 
Cloud  and  M.  le  Marquis  to  stare  at  each  other  in 
amazement. 

Racing  hard  down  the  broad  stair,  I  bade  a 
lacquey  throw  open  the  doors  of  the  great  portico 
and  kindle  the  hundred  lights  of  the  magnificent 
salon.  I  was  informed  that  Mademoiselle,  in  com- 
pany v/ith  Madame  Rochette,  had  retired  for  the 
night,  and  I  give  3^ou  my  word  I  was  not  sorry  to 
hear  it  ;  and  when  my  illustrious  guests  alighted  I 
was  waiting  to  meet  them  with  an  admirable  assump- 
tion of  the  utmost  charm  and  gaiety  of  demeanour. 
Behind  me  stood  M.  le  Comte  d'Anquital  ;  but  did  I 
care  a  straw  for  that  ?  Nay  ;  by  the  blood  of  my  heart, 
I  received  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri  as  a  king 


THE  COMING  OF  MME.  LA  DUCHESSE     119 

might  welcome  his  betrothed — there  was  no  cringing, 
no  sign  of  weakness,  no  crawHng  to  her  feet  for  the 
sake  of  a  caressing  glance — and  although  I  have 
played  the  actor  in  many  strange  tragedies,  never 
in  my  life  did  I  hold  myself  higher  than  on  this 
eventful  invasion  of  the  Chateau  de  Cheverny.  I 
was  dressed  in  white  satin,  and  my  vest,  if  I  recol- 
lect aright,  was  sprinkled  with  tracings  of  roses  in 
crimson  and  gold;  so  that  I  have  no  doubt  my 
appearance  was  such  as  to  attract  the  approval  of 
Madame,  and  her  eyes  danced  as  they  lighted 
upon  me. 

"  So,  you  see,  we  are  come  at  last,  M.  de  Che- 
verny !  "  she  said,  and  there  was  a  subtle  ripple  of 
delicate  mockery  in  her  voice  which  I  completely 
understood. 

"  I  and  my  chateau  lie  at  Madame's  entire  dis- 
posal,"  I  replied,  and  offered  my  arm,  making  at  the 
same  moment  my  bow  to  the  Regent,  by  whom  it 
was  returned  with  much  elegance.  Of  M.  I'Abbe 
I  took  no  notice  whatever,  but  led  the  Duchesse 
straight  into  the  grand  salon,  and  deftly  whipped 
off  her  furs.  She  smiled  upon  me  incessantly :  we 
were  alone— the  intoxication  of  her  presence  might 
have  damned  a  seraph,  and  while  M.  le  Due,  Dubois, 
and  the  Comte  d'Anquital  whispered  together  in  the 
corridor,  I  might  have  caught   Madame  swiftly  to 


I20     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

my  breast  ;  but  no,  I  stayed  calm,  and  watched  the 
passion  flood  into  her  magnificent  eyes. 

"  Mon  Dieu,  Audran,  how  cold  you  are  !  "  she  said. 

"  It  is  a  cold  night,  Duchesse,"  I  returned. 

''  I  had  a  thought  you  would  at  least  warm  my 
lips,"  she  whispered,  and  I  made  no  answer. 

''  Monsieur  is  very  silent,"  she  reflected,  with  a 
cutting  smile.     "  Has  he  found  another  love?  " 

"  One  woman,  Madame,  is  enough  for  any  man," 
I  said. 

*'  Then  you  have  not  forgotten  me  ?  ** 

"  No  one  who  had  once  seen  the  Duchesse  de 
Berri  could  forget  her." 

She  laughed  Hghtly. 

''  You  are  a  strange  rogue,  M.  le  Vicomte !  " 

''  Hush,  Madame,"  I  said,  closing  the  door.  "  You 
speak  too  loud,  and  my  name  is  now  Silvain  de  Che- 
verny." 

''  Ah,  I  remember,"  she  returned.  ''  But  I  should 
have  known  you  anywhere,  Audran,  in  spite  of  your 
disguise." 

*'  Hush  !  "  I  implored, 

''  M.  le  Due  and  the  Abbe  are  gone  up  the  stair, 
and  M.  le  Comte  is  following  them,"  she  said,  open- 
ing the  door  and  glancing  out.  "  You  need  not  fear 
they  will  interrupt  us." 

"  Walls  listen,"  I  replied  ;  and  then,  with  a  sharp- 


THE  COMING  OF  MME.  LA  DUCHESSE     121 

ness  that  made  her  start :  **  What  is  d'Anquital 
doing  here  ?  " 

''  How  should  I  know  ?  "  Madame  answered  ;  ''  M. 
le  Due  sent  him." 

"  Then  I  will  go  farther,  and  inquire  why  M,  le 
Due  has  come,  and  the  arch-devil  Dubois,  and  you, 
Duchesse  ?  Has  M.  le  Comte  been  supplying  you 
with  an  account  of  my  daily  routine  at  Cheverny  ? 
Has  he  written  the  Regent  to  say  I  am  a  sluggard 
in  pursuing  my  quest?  Ah,  Madame,  I  see  by  your 
face  that  my  words  burn  you  !  Could  you  not  trust 
me  awhile  ?  Could  you  not  feel  secure  in  your 
belief  in  me  ?  " 

She  turned  away  her  head,  and  when  I  had  again 
closed  the  door  she  flashed  round  upon  me  in  a 
hurricane  of  fury. 

"  Have  you  the  letters,  Vicomte  ?  "  she  cried. 

I  kept  a  stubborn  silence.  She  flung  back  her 
head,  and  I  do  not  think  I  ever  saw  any  woman  so 
haughty,  when  she  pleased,  as  Madame  la  Duchesse 
de  Berri. 

''  Speak !  "  she  stormed. 

"  If  they  were  in  my  possession — if  I  laid  them 
now  in  your  hands,  would  you  come  to  me  and  be 
my  wife,  Madame?" 

"  So  you  think  you  can  claim  me  when  your 
roguery  is  done,"  she  replied. 


122      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"That  was  the  arrangement,"  I  said. 

''  But  if  I  refuse?  If  I  change  my  mind  and  de- 
cide that  I  do  not  love  you  sufficiently  to  be  your 
wife — what  then,  Monsieur?" 

"  That  would  be  the  very  devil,"  I  replied. 

**  Would  you  dare  to  hold  the  letters?"  she 
cried. 

'*  Against  all  France,  Madame,  if  I  had  them." 

^*  You  are  a  bold  rascal." 

"  As  always,"  I  acquiesced.  "  Lower  your  voice, 
Duchesse." 

"  You  have  killed  Silvain  de  Cheverny — you  have, 
I  daresay,  poisoned  the  Chevalier,  and  now  I  hear 
you  are  making  love  to  Mademoiselle  his  daughter. 
If  this  is  true.  Monsieur,  you  shall  rot  and  rot  in  the 
Bastille  all  your  life  !  " 

There  was  yellow  jealousy  in  her  voice,  and  I 
could  not  help  smiling,  as  her  glance  ran  from  my 
face  to  my  feet,  and  then  up  again,  as  though  I  were 
something  to  be  spat  upon.  I  stayed  silent :  no 
man,  except  he  be  a  fool,  wastes  good  breath  on  an 
angry  woman,  and  I  knew  enough  of  Madame  de 
Berri  to  refrain  from  whetting  her  temper  on  the 
grindstone  of  a  wordy  passage  of  arms. 

"Where  is  Mademoiselle?"  she  cried,  after  a 
stream  of  fury  had  left  me  with  my  ears  tingling, 
and  at  last  I  answered  her. 


THE  COMING  OF  MME.  LA  DUCHESSE     123 

"  In  bed,  Madame,  for  all  I  know.  And  a  very 
good  place  too." 

''  Insolent !  "  she  exclaimed.  *'  I  will  not  leave 
you  until  you  have  confessed  to  me  that  your  whole 
care  is  for  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny.  You  have 
not  searched  for  the  letters — but  you  know  where 
they  are  ;  they  are  in  the  hands  of  this  girl,  and  you 
intend  to  shield  her— you  mean  to  try  and  crawl 
away  in  the  dark  from  your  promise  to  me,  but  you 
shall  not  do  so,  M.  le  Vicomte.  I  will  call  M.  le 
Due :  I  will  tell  him  of  your  perfidy — you  have  de- 
ceived me,  played  me  false,  and  by  all  the  saints 
you  shall  pay  for  it.  Monsieur !  "  And  with  a  low 
sobbing  cry,  she  raced  towards  the  door. 

One  bound  and  I  had  caught  the  skirt  of  her  float- 
ing dress,  and  it  ripped  with  the  sound  of  a  rapier 
flying  fast  from  a  tight  scabbard,  but  next  breath 
I  had  her  round  the  waist  and  swung  her  back  into 
the  centre  of  the  salon. 

''You  hurt  me!"  she  hissed.  ''You  villain! 
You  hurt  me !  You  make  my  hands  bleed.  Let 
me  go !  Devil!"  and  then,  swift  as  a  dog  might 
snap  at  a  bone,  the  Duchesse  bent  her  face,  and  I 
felt  her  sharp  teeth  close  upon  my  wrist.  A  spurt 
of  blood  stained  the  long  ruffles  of  Malines  lace  that 
swept  my  fingers,  but  tightening  rather  than  relax- 
ing my  grip,  I  held  Madame  fast  in  my  arms. 


124     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Heaven  seems  to  take  sport  in  making  me  a 
tamer  of  women,"  I  murmured.  "  Duchesse,  there 
was  a  night  when  I  swore  to  carry  through  the  mis- 
sion of  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans,  and  for  your  sake  I 
kept  my  oath." 

''  Ciel  !  "  she  gasped.     ''  You  have  the  letters  !  " 

"  Are  you  ready  to  become  Madame  la  Vicomtesse 
de  Championnet  ?  "  I  said. 

"  You  have  the  letters  !  "  she  cried  again.  ''  Give 
them  to  me  !  Peste  !  Audran,  how  slow  you  are  ! 
Give  them  to  me  now,  before  anyone  comes  into  the 
salon,  and  then  I  .  .  .  I  .  .  ." 

''  Yes,  Madame,  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  will  take  your  name  ;  I  will  wed  you,  Mon. 
sieur,  and  in  a  week  you  may  call  me  your  wife — 
you  may  take  me  back  to  Paris,  and  I  will  marry 
you.     I  sv/ear  it  on  my  knees !  " 

She  dropped  at  my  feet,  and  commenced  to  kiss 
her  little  jewelled  crucifix  with  a  fervour  that  made 
me  smile. 

"  So  you  are  prepared  to  be  true  to  your  word  !  " 
I  said. 

"  Yes,  a  thousand  times  yes,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  she 
whispered,  still  clinging  to  my  knees.  '*  Make  haste  I 
The  letters,  for  the  sake  of  Heaven  !  You  have 
them  in  your  breast  ?  " 

I  shook  my  head.     Madame  gave  a  shrill  cry  and 


THE  COMING  OF  MME.  LA  DUCHESSE     125 

then  knelt  still  as  a  statue,  listening.  Ah,  her  quick 
ears  had  heard  what  mine  had  not,  the  sound  of  a 
small  door  opening  into  one  of  the  oriels  of  the 
salon,  and  even  as  the  Duchesse  leapt  to  her  feet  a 
heavy  curtain  was  swung  aside,  and  before  us  stood 
Mademoiselle  Aurelie,  subHmely  drest  in  a  soft 
black  frock  laced  here  and  there  with  silver,  and 
brightened  at  the  bosom  by  a  cream  and  a  damask 
rose.  I  breathed  either  a  curse  or  a  prayer,  and 
making  my  most  perfect  bow,  presented  the  ladies 
to  one  another  in  a  manner  of  inimitable  delicacy. 

No  man  in  France  could  have  done  it  better. 

"  Madame,"  I  said,  "  this  is  my  very  dear  cousin, 
Mademoiselle  Aurelie  de  Cheverny,  of  whom  we 
were  speaking,  and  I  am  overjoyed  to  find  she  has 
not  retired  for  the  night,  as  I  so  foolishly  imagined. 
Aurelie,  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri  has  deserted 
the  Luxembourg  and  the  Palais-Royal,  and  come 
all  the  way  from  Paris  to  submit  to  us  her  sympathies 
on  the  death  of  M.  le  Chevalier.  Charming  of  her,  is 
it  not?  And  she  is  accompanied  by  Monseigneur 
the  Regent  of  France  and  M.  I'Abbe  Dubois — a  deli- 
ciously  piquant  surprise  of  which  I  never  dreamed." 

The  Duchesse  laughed  a  light  laugh  of  very 
pointed  mockery. 

"  M.  de  Cheverny  is  eloquent  to-night,"  she  said. 
**  Where  is  Monseigneur  my  father?" 


126      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

''  With  M.  le  Comte  d'Anquital  and  M.  I'Abbe, 
Madame,"  I  replied. 

'*  Take  me  to  him,"  she  commanded,  and  survey- 
ing Aurehe  with  an  insolent  stare,  the  Duchesse 
emitted  another  devilish  ripple  of  laughter,  and  laid 
one  of  her  hands  in  mine. 

''  Come,"  she  said,  and  swallowing  a  red-hot  blas- 
phemy, I  swung  in  her  company  out  of  the  salon, 
leaving  Mademoiselle  standing  motionless  some- 
where near  the  oriel — the  picture  of  magnificent 
and  courageous  beauty.  1  closed  the  door,  and 
just  then  who  should  appear  but  d'Anquital,  and 
Madame's  eyes  no  sooner  lighted  upon  him  than 
she  loosed  her  hold  of  my  hand. 

"  Ah,  here  is  M.  le  Comte !  "  she  cried.  ''  You 
may  leave  me  now,  M.  de  Cheverny  !  You  may, 
if  you  like,  return  to  your  very  dear  cousin, 
Mademoiselle  Aurelie,  and  to-morrow  we  shall 
meet  again.  Good-night,  Monsieur,  and  pleasant 
dreams." 

D'Anquital's  smile  made  me  itch  for  his  blood, 
but  I  was  scarcely  the  fool  to  show  chagrin,  how- 
ever bitter  the  insult.  No ;  I  bowed,  that  was  all, 
and  watched  them  go  together  up  the  broad  stair, 
Madame's  fingers  resting  on  the  arm  of  M.  le  Comte, 
her  head  inclined  towards  his,  and  their  faces  peril- 
ously near  each  other. 


'THE  COMING  OF  MME.  LA  DUCHESSE     127 

Well,  that  was  her  way  of  torturing  me,  and  when 
a  woman  deliberately  tries  to  rouse  the  jealousy  of 
a  man,  she  is  very  much  in  love  with  him  or  an  in- 
corrigible coquette. 

Madame  maddened  me,  and  racked  by  a  hundred 
imaginings,  I  descended  to  the  terrace,  and  tramped 
to  and  fro  'mid  the  cold  breath  of  night.  Fury  kept 
my  body  warm  as  well  as  my  heart,  and  I  stayed 
there  until  a  sudden  gush  of  rain  and  wind  forced 
me  to  take  shelter  within  the  chateau,  and  I  turned 
my  feet  once  more  to  the  salon,  wondering  how  I 
should  be  received  by  Mademoiselle  Aurelie. 

The  Regent  was  coming  up  the  stair,  and,  having 
no  desire  to  meet  him  in  my  present  mood,  I  shrank 
back  into  shadow  and  watched  him  pass  onward  to- 
wards the  chamber  to  which  d'Anquital  had  escorted 
the  Duchesse.  He  was  probably  fresh  from  an 
interview  with  Aurelie,  and  full  of  many  thoughts, 
I  was  about  to  enter  the  salon  by  the  small  oriel — 
indeed  my  hand  was  already  on  the  door — when  the 
sound  of  Mademoiselle's  voice  came  to  my  ears  ex- 
tremely clear  and  resolute,  and  then,  in  reply,  a  man 
made  answer,  and  some  subtle  instinct  warned  me 
that  she  was  alone  with  M.  le  Comte  d'Anquital. 
Alone  with  d'Anquital,  and  at  night!  My  heart 
grew  so  cold  that  I  shivered,  and,  pushing  the  door 
softly  back,   I   slipped  w^ithin,   shut   it  again,  and. 


128     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

shrouded  by  the   hangings,  crouched  low,  and  fixed 
my  eyes  on  Aurelie. 

Many  of  the  Hghts  had  been  extinguished,  and 
the  only  remaining  aureola  shone  around  Mademoi- 
selle as  she  stood  by  a  couch  and  faced  M.  le  Comte, 
both  hands  flung  negligently  behind  her,  and  her 
figure  coming  out  extraordinarily  pretty  and  slim 
against  the  rose-coloured  stream  of  light  that  bathed 
her  face  and  body  in  soft  radiance.  I  never  saw  her 
look  more  beautiful,  more  exquisitely  determined, 
and  I  knew  at  a  glance  that  she  was  at  war  for  the 
second  time  with  the  man  I  hated  most  in  all  the 
world. 


CHAPTER  XII 

MADEMOISELLE  AURELIE  AT  BAY 

"  M.  Le  Comte,"  said  Aurelie,  ''  I  think  it  would 
be  well  if  you  followed  M.  le  Due  to  the  card-cham- 
ber. And  Madame  la  Duchesse,  an  hour  ago,  leaned 
'gainst  your  shoulder  so  lovingly  that  I  swear  she 
awaits  your  return  with  restlessness.  Go  to  her  at 
once,  Monsieur,  or  you  will  get  your  ears  pulled  !  " 

"  Mademoiselle  !  "  exclaimed  d'Anquital. 

''  You  seemed  surprised  at  my  audacity  !  "  she  re- 
plied ;  "  but  the  only  way  to  shame  an  insolent  man, 
M.  le  Comte,  is  to  laugh  at  him.  And  I  am  laugh- 
ing at  you.  Come,  are  you  in  love  with  the  Du- 
chesse, or  does  Madame  do  the  wooing?  " 

D'Anquital's  strange  eyes  began  to  shine  yellow 

and  cat-like  from  where  he  stood  in  the  deep  gloom, 

and  Dieu  !    how  I  loathed  him  !     He  wore  a  coat  of 

green  velvet,  trimmed   and   fretted   here  and  there 

with  gold,  and  the  great  diamond  buckles  of  his  shoes 

shot  out  dazzling  rays  of  light   as  he  made  a   quick 

shufBe  a  little   nearer  to  Aurelie.     I   have  already 
9  129 


I30     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

said  he  was  the  wickedest  rascal  on  God's  earth,  and 
when  his  soft,  languorous  glance  crept  from  Made- 
moiselle's feet  to  her  face,  and  clung  there,  I  was  mad 
enough  to  be  ready  to  stab  him  in  the  back  and 
bring  my  heel  down  upon  his  dead  lips  !  Aurelie 
did  not  seem  to  fear  him — there  lay  her  danger,  and 
I  thanked  Heaven  a  thousand  times  that  I  was  near, 
and  wore  a  sword. 

'^  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans  has  been  tempting  Made- 
moiselle to  go  with  him  to  Paris — to  taste  life  at  the 
Palais-Royal,  and  to  dazzle  the  Court  with  her  in- 
comparable loveliness" — M.  le  Comte  began,  ignor- 
ing her  taunt  of  Madame  la  Duchesse. 

"  Yes,"  she  admitted.  "  You  heard  my  answer, 
Monsieur." 

"  It  saddened  me,"  he  replied,  in  his  silkiest  tones. 
"  You  were  never  born  to  be  a  nun,  Mademoiselle." 

And  he  looked  at  her  with  a  meaning  she  could 
not  possibly  misunderstand. 

''  Or  you  to  be  a  gentleman,  Monsieur  !  "  came 
the  ready  answer.  *'  I  cannot  understand  your  pres- 
ence here,  nor  the  invasion  of  Cheverny  by  M.  le 
Due,  his  daughter,  and  M.  I'Abbe.  You  have  come 
and  taken  possession  of  the  chateau  as  though  it 
were  your  own." 

^'  On  M.  Silvain's  invitation,"  replied  d'Anquital ; 
and  Mademoiselle  bit  her  lips. 


MADEMOISELLE  AURELTE  AT  BAY        131 

**  He  may  have  reasons  for  tolerating  you  awhile," 
she  reflected,  drawing  imaginary  patterns  with  her 
little  foot  upon  the  floor. 

M.  le  Comte  hissed  a  laugh. 

"  M.  Silvain  de  Cheverny  is  certainly  worth  your 
watching,"  he  said.  ''  He  is  not  a  man  to  be  trusted, 
Mademoiselle." 

''  Tell  him  so  to  his  face,  Monsieur!  "  she  flashed 
out,  "  and  I  give  you  my  word  he  will  make  you 
smart ! " 

"  He  is  capable  of  any  rascality  under  the  sun," 
returned  d'Anquital. 

"And  you,  Monsieur?" 

I  could  have  run  forward  and  kissed  her  feet  for 
thus  championing  me  in  the  face  of  this  low  unutter- 
able scoundrel,  and  M.  le  Comte  scarcely  seemed  to 
know  whether  to  laugh,  to  be  enraged,  or  to  play 
the  suave  diplomatist.  He  chose  the  latter  role, 
and  I  must  admit  the  man  was  a  very  finished  and 
fascinating  persuader.  Women  had  long  been  his 
pi-ey — he  had  studied  their  vanities,  their  idiosyncra- 
sies, their  weakness,  and  their  strength  ;  he  knew  when 
to  strike  and  how  to  flatter,  and  the  soft  notes  of  his 
voice  fell  on  one's  ears  with  a  charm  that  might  over- 
come the  heart  against  the  wall.  I  have  always  de- 
tested a  tongue  which  runs  loose  in  the  oil  of  flattery, 
and  yet  I  felt  a  subtle  envy  towards  the  intense  al- 


132      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

lurement  of  M.  le  Comte's  dashing  declaration  of  love, 
when  all  suddenly,  and  with  the  most  abandoned 
fervour,  he  flung  himself  down  before  Aurelie  and 
catching  at  the  hem  of  her  frock,  pressed  it  to  his 
lips  in  the  interlude  of  a  red-hot,  passionate  appeal, 
and,  although  his  voice  was  as  low  as  a  whisper,  my 
ears  did  not  so  much  as  miss  one  word. 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  Mademoiselle,  you  make  me  burn 
to  take  you  in  my  arms  ;  you  are  the  only  woman  in 
France  worth  worshipping,  and  I  swear  on  my  honour 
that  I  love  you  beyond  all  dreams — beyond  life  and 
death,  and  beyond  my  soul's  salvation  !  Is  not  that 
enough  ?  I  said  you  were  never  meant  to  be  a  nun 
— you  were  born  for  warm  love  :  you  have  lived  in 
the  cold  long  enough.  Nay,  do  not  try  to  draw  away 
from  me  ;  I  have  your  hands  at  last,  and  until  your 
lips  have  touched  mine — until  you  have  lain  in 
my  arms  and  warmed  my  face  with  your  kisses — I 
shall  not  let  you  go.  I  have  sworn  to  win  you  to- 
night, and  by  Heaven  I  will  !  Some  women  may  be 
coaxed  by  subtlety — others  wooed  by  waiting,  but 
you  are  one  of  those  whose  hearts  can  only  be  taken 
by  storm.     Mademoiselle,  come  to  me!  " 

I  crouched  lower,  panting.  Aurelie  was  breathing 
fast,  one  hand  thrown  across  her  bosom  ;  and  the 
purest  snow  could  not  have  been  whiter  than  her 
face — the  purest  jewel  could  not  have  beat  the  cold 


MADEMOISELLE  AURELIE  AT  BAY       133 

brilliance  of  her  eyes,  and  their  look  of  loathing  as 
she  gazed  down  upon  d'Anquital  told  him  better 
than  a  torrent  of  words  how  indescribable  and  im- 
placable was  her  hate. 

What  a  vile  scoundrel  you  are,  Monsieur  !  "  she 
said  at  last,  and  the  scorn  in  her  voice  stabbed  M. 
le  Comte  to  the  quick.  She  flung  herself  clear  of 
him,  but  he  arose  and  tried  to  snatch  her  wrist. 
Mademoiselle  slid  behind  the  couch. 

"  Ah,  you  love  this  cousin—this  Silvain,"  he 
snarled,  "  but  do  you  know  what  he  is  ?  If  I  told 
you  all,  you  would  rather  poison  him  than  smile 
upon  him.  A  treacherous  hound,  wdio  is  playing  you 
false,  who  has  been  worming  himself  into  your  con- 
fidence that  he  might  work  some  hellish  purpose  of 
his  own — that  is  part  of  the  truth  regarding  Mon- 
sieur Silvain.  The  rest  you  will  know  when  it  is  too 
late,  when  you  and  your  friends  are  betrayed,  or 
doomed  to  the  Bastille  or  the  scaffold.  Some  day 
you  will  think  of  my  warning,  and  you  will  under- 
stand that  1  came  into  your  salon  to  save  you  as 
well  as  to  win  your  love." 

"  To  save  me  from  what  ? "  demanded  Made- 
moiselle. 

"  Come  to  me  and  I  will  tell  you,"  he  returned, 
and  stretched  out  his  arms  across  the  lounge. 

Aurelie  shrank  away  from  him,  there  was  fear  in 


134     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

her  eyes  at  last  :  the  strong  heart  yearned  for  the 
stronger  hand,  and  realising  that  she  was  alone  and 
in  his  power,  her  woman's  wit  turned  her  into  the 
path  of  subtlety,  which  is  the  woman's  sword  when 
all  else  fails. 

*'  It  is  late,  Monsieur,  and  I  am  tired,"  she  said. 
"  Perhaps  in  the  morning  we  may  meet  again,  and 
then " 

''  Yes,  Mademoiselle,  and  then ?  " 

*'  I  shall,  have  an  answer  ready  for  you." 

*^  No,  I  must  have  it  now."  urged  d'Anquital. 
"What  more  fitting  hour  than  this,  Mademoiselle? 
We  are  alone  in  the  silence  of  night,  the  lacqueys 
are  in  attendance  at  the  card  chamber  above,  and 
no  one  will  come  to  interrupt  our  love.  See,  I  will 
lock  this  door  .  .  ." 

"  No  !  no  !  no  !  "  she  cried.  "  Monsieur,  I  shall 
call  for  aid  !  " 

He  deliberately  crossed  the  salon,  locked  the 
door,  and  was  turning  again  towards  Aurelie,  when 
she  made  a  swift  dash  for  the  smaller  exit,  where  I 
lay  hidden  'neath  the  hangings:  but  M.  le  Comte 
was  even  quicker,  and  to  avoid  his  embrace  she  was 
forced  to  swing  back  once  more  to  her  old  stand 
behind  the  lounge, 

'*  Monsieur  !  "  she  exclaimed,  quivering  with  pas- 
sion and  hatred,  ''  you  are  something  too  foul  for  a 


MADEMOISELLE  AUR^LIE  AT  BAY       135 

pure  woman  even  to  spit  upon  !    Had  I  a  whip  !     My 
God  !  had  I  a  whip  !  " 

He  folded  his  arms  and  leered  at  her. 

"  What  then,  Mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  I  would  lay  it  'cross  your  face — I  would  lash 
you  bUnd!"  she  cried,  in  the  white-heat  of  her 
fury. 

D'Anquital  laughed. 

"  I  love  you  the  more  for  your  adorable  spirit, 
which  before  dawn  I'll  tame  !  "  he  answered.  ''  Cry 
for  help— none  will  come  to  you  :  M.  le  Marquis 
and  M.  de  Cheverny  are  basking  in  the  warmth  of 
Madame  de  Berri's  soft  smiles,  and  while  the  glam- 
our of  her  presence  is  around  their  hearts  they'll 
cast  no  thought  to  you.  Will  you  yield  yourself 
to  me,  or  must  I  make  you  captive  ?  You  won't ! 
Then   .  .  ." 

I  rose  to  my  feet.  The  time  had  come  when  I 
and  my  sword  were  needed— already  I  had  waited 
too  long,  and  M.  le  Comte  was  stealing  around  the 
lounge,  his  devilishly  handsome  face  coloured  by  the 
rose-rays  of  the  shaded  lights. 

Mademoiselle  slid  back  step  by  step,  her  eyes 
fixed  on  his,  and  there  was  no  longer  fear  in  her 
gaze,— there  was  something  a  thousand  times  more 
startling— the  mad  daring  that  turns  a  brave  woman 
at  bay  into  the  tigress  ;  and  just  as  I  was  about  to 


136     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

step  from  my  hiding-place  to  send  my  bright  strip 
of  steel  through  d'Anquital's  heart,  Aurelie's  slim, 
pretty  form  bent  like  a  willow — out  shot  her  little 
hand,  and  she  whipped  the  rapier  as  quick  as  light 
from  its  sheath  at  M.  le  Comte's  side.  He  mut- 
tered a  blasphemy — stepped  back,  leapt  on  a  table, 
and  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  extin- 
guished the  three  great  candles,  and  the  salon  was 
in  darkness.  Aurelie  gave  a  low  cry,  M.  le  Comte 
answered  it  with  a  laugh,  and  I  heard  the  quick  pat- 
ter of  their  feet  as  he  chased  her  to  and  fro,  avoid- 
ing the  wild  thrusts  which  I  knew  she  w^as  driving 
at  him  at  every  turn.  Then  I  heard  the  rapier 
tinkle  loudly  on  the  floor  and  guessed  he  had  either 
struck  it  from  her  hand,  or  else  she  had  dropped  it, 
while  I,  cursing  myself  for  holding  back  my  aid  so 
long,  slipped  out  into  the  centre  of  the  room  and 
stealthily  dogged  the  heavier  footsteps  of  d'Anquital, 
my  sword  poised  for  a  savage,  rapid  thrust.  I  could 
hear  the  drumming  of  my  heart  while  Mademoiselle 
and  M.  le  Comte,  both  panting,  moved  about  in 
the  dark,  Aurelie  searching  for  the  oriel  door, 
d'Anquital  hot  on  her  trail  to  frustrate  her  only 
chance  of  escape.  Suddenly  there  came  the  sound 
of  a  laugh,  a  sob,  a  scuffle,  and  afterwards  a  scream 
more  of  fury  than  dread,  and  I  knew  in  an  instant 
that  he  had  caught  her  ! 


MADEMOISELLE  AURELIE  AT  BAY       137 

Letting  my  rapier  dangle  from  my  wrist  by  its 
silken  sword-loop,  I  stretched  forth  my  hands,  ran 
forward,  and,  guided  by  Heaven  and  the  Saints, 
felt  my  fingers  close  and  sink  into  M.  le  Comte's 
throat.  Choking,  the  scoundrel  kept  his  grip  on 
Mademoiselle's  arm  until  I  swung  him  furiously 
away  and  dragged  him  like  a  dead  dog  towards  the 
hearth.  A  few  embers  remained,  and  still  retaining 
my  grasp  on  M.  le  Comte,  I  thrust  my  blade  into  the 
faint  red  glow,  and  leaning  down,  blew  upon  the 
cinders  until  a  tiny  flame  flickered  upward,  showing 
me  the  evil  visage  of  d'Anquital,  and  further  in  the 
shadow  Aurelie  de  Cheverny,  leaning  against  the 
wall  with  closed  eyes  and  a  face  of  deathly  white- 
ness. I  blew  again  upon  the  cinders,  and  M.  le 
Comte  may  or  may  not  have  guessed  at  my  fresh 
intention,  for  of  a  sudden  he  fought  like  a  wild-cat 
to  break  free  from  my  grip.  I  did  not  speak— I 
laughed ;  and  then  Aurelie  slowly  approached  and 
stood  looking  down  upon  him  and  me. 

''Leave  us,"  I  urged,  forcing  d'Anquital  once 
more  upon  his  back.  ''  This  is  no  fit  sight  for  you. 
Mademoiselle!  " 

She  shuddered. 

"  You  are  going  to  kill  him  !  "  she  whispered. 

''  If  Mademoiselle  pleases,"  I  replied,  and  M.  le 
Comte  found  his  tongue. 


138      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Villain  !  "  he  gasped.  *'  Mademoiselle,  this  man 
is  an  accursed  spy.     His  nam.e — his  name  is " 

I  brought  my  knee  down  on  his  breast  and  my 
hand  across  his  mouth. 

"  Go,  for  God's  sake,  Mademoiselle  !"  I  implored, 
"  and  let  me  settle  scores  with  this  wretch  once 
and  for  all !  " 

**  You  will  not  kill  him  ?  Do  not  take  his  life ! 
Thrash  him  if  you  like,  Silvain,  or  drive  him  out 
from  the  chateau  with  your  sword ;  but  I  cannot 
bear  that  you  should  run  him  through  the  body 
here  before  me." 

*'  I  will  not  kill  him  !  Go  !  "  I  commanded  ;  and, 
throwing  one  frightened  glance  over  her  shoulder 
at  my  face,  Aurelie  lifted  the  hangings  of  the  oriel 
and  passed  out  of  the  salon,  leaving  me  to  work  my 
will  upon  d'Anquital. 

The  dying  fire  was  low,  but  there  v/as  heat  enough 
to  crimson  the  point  of  my  rapier  as  though  it  had 
been  dipped  in  blood,  and  with  a  grim  feeling  at 
my  heart,  I  drew  forth  the  blade  and  forced  M.  le 
Comte's  head  back  over  my  foot.  The  room  was 
dark  save  for  the  warm  and  rosy  colour  of  the  hearth, 
and  we  must  have  made  a  strange  picture,  I  and 
d'Anquital,  coming  sharp  out  of  the  glow — I  with 
my  hard  face  and  eyes  of  steel  ;  he  with  his  teeth 
bared  and  a  little  splutter  of  foam  trickling  down 


MADEMOISELLE  AUR^LIE  AT  BAY       139 

his  chin,  watching  me  with  a  gaze  of  intense  horror. 
Once  or  twice  he  tried  to  speak  ;  more  than  once 
he  tried  to  struggle  away  from  me,  but  never  in  my 
life  did  I  feel  so  supreme  a  strength,  so  vast  a 
power,  as  on  this  night  at  the  Chateau  Cheverny, 
and  at  last  I  got  Monsieur's  head  against  my  knee 
and  kept  it  there. 

The  rapier  had  cooled,  so  I  heated  it  again ;  then, 
snatching  it  rapidly  from  the  fire,  I  drew  a  red, 
smoking  cross  on  M.  le  Comte's  brow.  He  howled 
as  a  wolf,  and  snapped  at  me,  but,  flinging  him  aside, 
I  stepped  back  and  let  him  rise.  Out  flashed  his 
sword,  he  came  upon  me  with  an  extraordinarily 
brilliant  lunge,  and  when,  after  a  swift  pass  or  so, 
my  blade  rasped  beneath  his  and  sent  it  spinning 
towards  the  frescoed  ceiling  of  the  salon,  I  had  more 
than  half  a  mind  to  run  him  through  the  lungs  for 
mere  wickedness  ;  but  remembering  my  promise  to 
Mademoiselle  Aurelie,  I  went  to  the  door,  and  threw 

it  wide. 

"Monsieur  may  keep  his   life!'*  I  said,  ''and  I 
wish  him  a  very  good-night ! " 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   FACE   AT    THE   WINDOW 

M.  LE  COMTE  d'Anquital  had  only  just  left  me, 
and  I  was  solemnly  meditating  on  the  dangerous 
knowledge  he  possessed  of  my  identity,  when  who 
should  reappear  but  Mademoiselle.  I  was  standing 
by  the  mantel,  and  the  room  was  still  dim,  though 
I  had  lighted  a  little  crystal  lamp  and  set  it  on  a 
table  near  the  oriel,  and  its  faint  orange-glow  showed 
me  that  Aurelie's  face  wore  a  wondrously  sweet  and 
enchanting  expression.  Some  of  her  russet  hair  was 
all  astray  over  her  brow,  and  her  big  eyes  shone  with 
soft  magnificence  as  she  came  to  me,  holding  out 
her  hands.  She  did  not  speak,  but  taking  my 
fingers,  pressed  them  to  her  lips,  and  I  swear  that  I 
trembled  from  my  head  to  my  feet — the  hot  blood 
surged  to  my  face,  and  for  a  thousand  louis  I  could 
not  have  opened  my  mouth,  even  to  stammer  one 
word  of  love,  though  my  heart  was  full  of  it. 

How  this  woman  had  crept  into  m.y  life — how  she 
had  weaned  me  from  my  unholy  passion  for  Madame 
la  Duchesse  de  Berri,  and  dragged  me  back   from 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  141 

damnation  !  But  for  her  I  should  have  killed  M.  le 
Comte  ;  but  for  her  I  should  have  ruthlessly  won 
the  letters  of  conspiracy,  only  to  bring  M.  le  Che- 
valier's friends  and  co-conspirators  to  death,  or  to 
the  dungeon,  by  giving  them  into  the  hands  of  the 
Regent  that  I  might  receive  Madame  as  my  wife, 
and  with  her  power,  and  riches,  and  a  title  that 
might  ring  high  in  France. 

All  these  thirsty  longings  were  gone — Madame  la 
Duchesse  had  tempted  me  once,  but  she  should  not 
tempt  me  again  ;  and  although  in  a  passionate  mo- 
ment I  had  drunk  from  her  lips  kisses  which  I  took 
as  a  pledge  of  love,  I  was  resolved  never  more  to  be 
either  her  tool  or  her  lover. 

Men  often  make  such  resolves — they  seldom  keep 
them,  and  there  is  an  affinity  'twixt  a  gay  reckless 
man  and  a  woman  of  warm  romance  which  leads  them 
oftener  towards  the  devil  than  towards  Heaven. 

On  calm  reflection,  too,  I  was  forced  to  confess 
that  if  Madame  became  my  wife,  it  would  in  the 
end  be  to  me  as  much  a  manage  de  convenance  as 
of  love.  I  had  not  only  wanted  the  Duchesse,  I 
wanted  to  satiate  my  ambition  by  claiming  an  im- 
mense reward  from  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans,  and  there 
is  nothing  so  damning  to  a  man's  peace  as  to  be  for 
ever  consumed  by  a  lust  after  power. 

Aurdlie  was  charming  me  away  from  sin — she  was 


142      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

making  me  loathe  my  own  vileness — she  was  fetch- 
ing back  some  of  the  old  de  Championnet  honour 
to  my  not  altogether  profligate  soul,  and  I  was  de- 
termined that  whether  she  cared  a  kiss  or  a  curse 
for  me,  I  at  least  would  be  to  her  as  true  a  friend  as 
any  in  France !  And  yet  she  was  no  saint — had  she 
shown  saintliness  I  could  not  have  adored  her  :  nay, 
by  Heaven,  she  was  just  the  sweetest,  gallantest 
little  heroine  in  the  world,  and  a  woman  to  the  very 
heart's  blood.  She  had  a  temper — she  could  storm 
the  chateau  down  when  she  pleased,  and  I  had  heard 
her  swear  with  fervour  more  than  once  ;  but  for 
loyalty,  brilliance,  and  charm,  there  was  no  maid  on 
earth  fit  to  compare  with  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny. 
She  held  my  fingers  so  long  a  time  that  shame 
covered  me,  and  I  began  to  draw  them  away. 

''  Mademoiselle,  do  not  think  me  a  sentimental 
blackguard — but  I  am  unworthy  of  this  ...  it  is  I 
who  should  do  homage,"  I  said. 

"  I  have  never  met  any  man  half  so  chivalrous 
as  you,"  she  broke  out  in  her  impetuosity.  ''  Silvain, 
I  am  reproaching  myself  a  million  times  that  I  ever 
doubted  you — that  I  ever  scorned  you " 

*'  Hush,  Mademoiselle,"  I  whispered,  "  you  know 
little  of  me,  and  if  you  knew  more  I  think  you  would 
rather  spurn  my  hand  than  kiss  it.  I  have  forgotten 
all  your  bitterness;  I    remember    only    your    kind 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  143 

words — your  words  of  regret.  They  are  treasured 
deep  down  in  my  heart,  and  if  we  soon  part  forever, 
Mademoiselle,  and  I  never  look  into  your  eyes  again, 
I  shall  at  least  carry  with  me  the  clean  thought  that 
whereas  I  once  sinned,  I  have  striven  to  atone,  and 
the  memory  of  you  will  never  leave  me — no,  not  till 
I  die !  And  afterwards,  if  Death  is  naught  but  a 
long  slumber,  you  will  come  to  me  in  my  dreams, 
and  I  shall  be  as  near  Heaven  as  I  deserve.  I  have 
no  other  wish,  Mademoiselle,  no  other  hope  !  " 

I  bowed  my  head,  and  when  at  last  I  took  courage 
and  looked  up,  her  eyes  were  bright  with  tears. 

"And  you  will  leave  me,  Silvain  ?  '*  she  said. 

**  In  good  time.  Mademoiselle  ;  when  Cheverny 
is  clear  of  the  Regent  and  Madame  de  Berri,  M. 
I'Abbe  and  M.  le  Comte  d'Anquital.  There  will  be 
nothing  to  stay  for." 

"  Nothing  to  stay  for  ?  " 

She  repeated  the  words  dreamily,  the  lashes 
shading  her  eyes,  which  glittered  very  prettily 
through  her  tears. 

''  You  will  be  well  rid  of  me,"  I  urged.  '*  I  brought 
you  nothing  but  misery  and  danger  ;  I  have  caused 
you  nothing  but  sorrow  ;  and  yet,  if  you  bid  me  re- 
main, if  I  could  serve  you  in  any  way — however 
small,  however  humble — I  would  do  it,  Mademoi- 
selle, to  the  last  beat  of  my  heart.** 


144     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

*'  Then  stay,"  she  whispered. 

Her  voice  was  low  and  sweet  ;  she  was  smiling 
upon  me,  and  I  drank  in  her  youth,  her  freshness, 
and  her  beauty  until  I  seemed  aglow  with  a  new  life 
and  a  new  hope.  Had  she  stayed  another  moment, 
I  might  have  been  mad  enough  to  declare  my  love 
for  her  ;  but  while  I  paused,  perturbed,  irresolute, 
she  slid  behind  the  curtains,  whispered  a  soft 
*'  Good-night,"  and  was  gone. 

I  drew  a  huge  fauteuil  to  the  hearth,  and  flung 
myself  down  with  a  weariness  that  angered  me. 
Aurelie  must  be  rescued  from  Cheverny.  It  was 
not  safe  for  her  to  remain  in  the  chateau  with  d'An- 
quital,  and  I  began  to  wish  I  had  killed  the  rascal, 
even  'gainst  her  will  ;  but  there  was  no  getting  quit 
of  him  until  the  Regent  returned  to  Paris.  I  won- 
dered how  long  he  would  stay,  and  what  the  mor- 
row would  bring.  More  than  likely  he  would  de- 
mand the  letters.  I  cursed  the  day  of  my  coming 
to  Cheverny — I  cursed  the  day  that  I  was  born ;  and 
so  the  time  passed. 

An  occasional  footstep  on  the  stair  told  me  that 
one  or  two  lacqueys  still  moved  to  and  fro  in  at- 
tendance on  those  in  the  card-chamber.  A  strange 
trio — M.  le  Due,  his  daughter  the  Duchesse,  and 
Dubois — to  desert  the  salon  for  the  cards,  and  the 
dice,  and  the  company  of  two  gentlemen  whom  they 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  145 

had  never  seen.  They  were  having  supper  brought 
to  them,  and  I  could  hear  the  rattle  of  the  silver  in 
the  room  above  ;  possibly  they  were  about  to  initi- 
ate the  Marquis  and  M.  Maury  de  Saint-Cloud  into 
the  mysteries  of  one  of  the  Palais-Royal  orgies,  and 
I  prayed  that  Mademoiselle  Aur^lie  was  safe  in  the 
company  of  Madame  Rochette  and  out  of  harm's 
way. 

The  embers  of  the  fire  ceased  at  last  to  glow — 
the  night  grew  colder  and  colder,  and  I  was  rising  to 
retire,  when  a  slight  tapping  sound  on  a  window 
sent  my  hand  instinctively  to  the  hilt  of  my  rapier. 

All  the  great  lattices  were  uncurtained  :  the  storm 
had  passed,  and  a  strong  slant  of  moonlight  poured 
into  the  salon,  so  that  I  stood  clear  to  the  view  of 
any  one  without.  I  waited,  and  presently  the  tap- 
ping recommenced.  I  moved  to  the  nearest  win- 
dow, and  gazed  out  upon  the  terrace.  It  was  bare 
and  glistening  wet,  but  silent  as  the  grave,  and  I 
stole  farther  down  the  room  until,  at  the  last  of  the 
six  lattices,  I  saw  a  man's  face,  and  some  inexpli- 
cable fascination  drew  me  closer  until  I  stopped 
dead,  with  a  heart  of  ice.  It  Vv^as  the  face  of  Silvain 
de  Cheverny  !  The  moonlight  was  playing  around 
him,  and  he  was  crouching  a  little — his  long  ragged 
coat  trailing  on   the  terrace,  his  hat  pulled  over  his 

eyes,  and  a  white  scarf  wrapped  about  his  throat — 
10 


146      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

that  throat  which  m}'  rapier  had  pierced  in  the  glade 
by  Pontign}^  and  in  my  horror  at  the  apparition  I 
did  not  know  that  I  too  was  crouching  in  the  same 
manner  as  my  enemy,  and  for  awhile  neither  of  us 
moved  a  limb  or  twitched  an  eye,  until  a  burst  of 
laughter  and  song  sounding  from  the  card-chamber 
above  set  Monsieur  Silvain  to  tap  the  window  again 
with  the  tips  of  his  fingers. 

I  made  up  my  mind  on  the  instant,  and  opening 
the  lattice,  admitted  him  to  the  salon,  holding  my 
drawn  sword  in  my  hand. 

De  Cheverny  bowed,  and  softty  closed  the  window. 

"  I  am.  come  home  at  last,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said. 
"  I  v/as  not  so  easily  killed,  after  all,  though  I  con- 
fess your  thrust  well-nigh  sent  me  to  Purgatory. 
Ma  foi,  Monsieur,  you  are  a  beautiful  duellist." 

I  could  not  answer  him — I  was  too  stunned,  too 
amazed  ;  so  he  sat  down  and  laughed  low  to  him- 
self, letting  the  tail  of  his  eye  rest  now  and  then 
upon  my  face,  which  I  dare  say  was  deadly  white. 
It  was  enough  to  scare  the  wits  of  any  man,  this 
resurrection  of  the  rascal  Silvain,  and  for  a  moment 
my  sangfroid,  my  calmness,  and  my  gallantry  de- 
serted me  altogether  ;  but  with  a  subtle  instinct  I 
swung  the  curtains  over  the  windows,  one  by  one, 
locked  both  doors,  and  lighted  two  or  three  candles. 
Then  I  turned  again  upon  de  Cheverny.     He  blinked, 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  147 

moved  his  head  stiffly,  and  pulling  off  his  hat,  threw 
it  down  by  his  muddy  feet.  He  wore  riding-boots, 
and  they  were  spurred  :  he  also  wore  a  rapier,  and 
there  was  a  wicked,  restless  expression  on  his  face 
that  warned  me  I  must  play  my  game  warily  if  I 
wished  to  dupe  Monsieur  Silvain  and  ensure  his 
exit,  dead  or  alive,  from  the  chateau. 

"  So  I  am  not  burdened  with  your  life,  after  all," 
I  began,  "  and  my  thrust.  Monsieur,  was  scarcely  so 
true  as  I  had  intended." 

"  One-eighth  of  an  inch,  and  you  would  have  slit 
my  throat  through  and  through  !  "  he  replied. 

"  Well,  the  miscalculation  was  excusable.  The 
lanthorn  was  fickle,  and  the  moonbeams  merry,  but 
I  did  my  best  to  kill  you,"  I  said. 

"  And  failed,"  he  reflected. 

"  Well,  well !  "  I  laughed.  "  The  best  duellists 
are  sometimes  at  fault,  and  you  must  admit  the  light 
was  bad.  Yet  if  any  man  ever  looked  like  death 
under  a  sword-thrust,  it  was  you,  Monsieur,  when 
you  clapped  both  hands  to  your  neck  and  fell." 

'^  Would  you  have  twirled  your  handkerchief 
around  my  throat  had  you  thought  it  might  stanch 
the  flow  of  blood — eh,  Vicomte  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  meant  you  to  die,"  I  returned. 

Silvain  smiled,  and  stole  a  glance  at  the  rings 
upon  my  fingers. 


148      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Why  did  you  mean  me  to  die  ?  "  he  asked. 

*'  For  the  lust  of  killing,"  I  lightly  replied. 

"  No,  M.  Ic  Vicomte,"  he  said.  "  You  wanted  me 
dead  for  a  purpose.  When  I  swooned  you  stole  my 
coat,  my  perruque,  my  rings,  and  my  pardon.  The 
rings  are  now  on  your  fingers  :  the  perruque  has 
only  given  place  to  an  excellent  imitation,  and  I 
dare  say  you  have  acted  me  to  the  very  life,  here  at 
Cheverny.  While  I  lay  in  the  snow.  Monsieur,  after 
you  left  me,  who  should  appear  but  mine  host  of 
the  Pontigny  hostelry.  Stealing  into  the  wine- 
chamber  to  find  us  gone,  he  had  suspected  a  duel, 
and  arrived  by  my  side  almost  the  moment  follow- 
ing your  departure.  He  must  have  been  bending 
over  me  v/hile  you  were  bridling  your  mare,  for  he 
swears  he  heard  the  rattle  of  her  hoofs  upon  the 
frozen  road." 

*'  So  he  saved  your  life,"  I  said. 

"  He  and  your  handkerchief." 

"  And  where  have  you  lain  since?  " 

"  At  the  hostelry.  The  innkeeper  and  his  wife 
were  the  only  persons  cognisant  of  my  presence 
there.  I  said  I  was  the  Vicomte  de  Championnet. 
Monsieur,  you  stare  at  me  ;  but  as  you  have  taken 
my  name  and  my  character,  why  should  I  not  take 
yours  ?  I  told  these  people  that  I  wanted  all  Paris 
to  hear  that  I,  the  Vicomte,  was  dead,  and   they 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  149 

spread  the  news  at  once.  I  also  bribed  them  to 
keep  silence  as  to  my  being  at  the  hostelry,  and  the 
woman  nursed  me  in  secret,  while  her  husband 
asked  every  travelling  stranger  who  happened  to 
call  for  supper,  or  a  cup  of  wine,  whether  he  had 
heard  that  M.  le  Vicomte  de  Championnet,  once  so 
well  known  in  Paris,  had  been  mysteriously  killed  in 
a  duel  close  to  the  village.  Your  supposed  death  has 
been  talked  about,  Monsieur,  in  all  the  taverns  and 
coffee-houses,  and  it  is  said  M.  le  Due  d'Orleansand 
Madame  de  Berri  were  greatly  affected." 

I  smiled  a  little,  and  seated  myself  opposite  to  de 
Cheverny,  with  a  table  between  us.  His  eyes  were 
sunken — his  face  had  lost  its  florid  coarseness,  but 
his  look  was  as  subtle  and  wicked  as  ever,  and  he 
craftily  glanced  at  me  in  a  manner  that  aroused  my 
strongest  suspicions. 

*'  I  must  either  kill  this  man,"  I  thought,  "  or  he 
will  kill  me." 

''  Why  did  you  wish  all  Paris  to  imagine  I  was 
slain  ?  "  I  asked. 

''  Because  you  desired  It,  Monsieur,"  he  retorted. 
''You  have  passed  as  Sllvain  de  Cheverny  into  M. 
le  Chevalier's  chateau  for  some  black  reason  best 
known  to  yourself — you  are  here  on  a  devil's  game, 
and  so  am  I  !  I  lay  snug  at  Pontigny  until  my 
wound  healed,  that  you  might    think    me    dead — 


I50     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

that  you  might  fancy  yourself  secure  against  detec- 
tion. I  gave  you  time  to  win  a  footing  in  the  graces 
of  my  uncle  and  my  cousin,  and  now  the  Chevalier 
is  no  longer  alive  I  am  come  to  take  possession 
of  Cheverny,  and  to  revenge  myself  on  you  by 
showing  you  in  your  true  character.  Mine  host 
of  the  inn  has  proved  a  treasure.  He  gained  me  all 
the  news  of  your  entrance,  your  reception,  the  death 
of  my  uncle,  and  your  possible  alliance  with  Made- 
moiselle Aurelie.  He  has  a  son  who  is  stable-boy 
here.  I  have  paid  them  both  well  from  the  purse 
which  I  found  in  the  pocket  of  your  coat,  M.  le 
Vicomte — that  coat  which  you  left  in  exchange  for 
mine.  Ah,  you  have  been  deep.  You  have  played 
a  masterly  game,  but  I  held  the  ace  all  through, 
and  to-night  I  shall  throw  it  down.  And  what  will 
Mademoiselle  say  ?  " 

I  was  silent. 

"  And  what  will  Mademoiselle  say  ?  "  he  repeated, 
thrusting  his  face  closer  to  mine,  and  grinning  from 
ear  to  ear.  Certainly  Monsieur  Silvain  was  an  in- 
imitable scoundrel. 

"  You  know  too  much,"  I  answered,  leaning  my 
arms  on  the  table  and  glaring  back  at  him.  "  You 
are  in  my  way  here  at  Cheverny,  and  I  shall  have  to 
get  rid  of  you.  Monsieur." 

"You  will  never  do  that,"  he  said. 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  151 

"Are  you  in  need  of  money  ?"  I  inquired. 

He  nodded. 

"  If  I  offer  you  a  bribe,  will  you  leave  the  chateau, 
and  return  no  more  until  three  days  are  past  ?  " 

His  mocking  laugh  echoed  through  the  salon. 

"  That  you  may  finish  your  game,  and,  in  addition, 
cheat  me  out  of  my  inheritance  !  No,  M.  le  Vi- 
comte  !     Not  for  a  million  louis  !  " 

^'You  are  scarcely  diplomatic,"  I  murmured. 
"  You  seem  to  forget  thati  hold  your  pardon  from  the 
Due  d'Orleans.  Unless  you  can  exhibit  that  order 
for  your  release  from  the  Bastille,  I  fear,  Monsieur, 
your  claim  to  Cheverny  will  gain  no  hearing.  In  the 
eyes  of  the  law  you  are  a  murderer.  You  were 
branded  as  such  when  you  killed  M.  le  Comte  and 
Mademoiselle  Crespigny  by  Notre  Dame." 

"  Villain  !  "  he  cried.  "  You  propose  to  retain  the 
Regent's  pardon,  which  you  stole  from  me  after  the 
duel!" 

*'  Exactly  !  "  I  returned,  "  unless  you  leave  the 
chateau  at  once  and  do  not  re-appear  until  my  busi- 
ness here  is  ended.  I  can  have  you  arrested,  if  I 
please,  and  taken  back  to  Paris.  Without  your 
priceless  slip  of  paper,  signed  by  M.  le  Due's  hand, 
your  liberty.  Monsieur,  or  your  captivity  lies  entirely 
at  my  disposal.  The  Regent  is  my  friend.  I  could 
go  to  him  and  say,  *  Monseigneur,  M.    Silvain    de 


152      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

Cheverny  is  too  dangerous  a  rogue  to  be  anywhere 
but  In  the  Bastille.'  I  could  show  him  your  pardon, 
and  at  my  request  he  would  instantly  cancel  it." 

"  Where  is  the  order  for  my  release  ?  "  he  cried. 

''  Here  !  "  I  replied,  striking  my  breast  ;  and  all 
suddenly,  without  a  shadow  of  warning,  Silvain 
made  a  snatch  at  my  throat  across  the  table.  I  shot 
my  head  aside  and  arose,  while  he  crouched  in  the 
fauteuil  and  gave  vent  to  a  little  snarl  of  unutterable 
fury. 

"Foiled,  Monsieur!"  I  said.  ''When  shall  I 
make  you  understand  how  entirely  your  life  and 
your  fortunes  are  in  my  hands?  I  can  have  you 
thrown  back  in  the  Bastille  or  kill  you  here  in  the 
salon.  You  are  at  my  mercy,  and  I  am  deter- 
mined to  see  the  end  of  you  to-night.  Last  time 
we  met,  the  light  or  my  rapier  played  me  false,  but 
I  do  not  think  I  shall  make  another  blunder.  You 
have  come  into  my  presence  of  your  own  free  will, 
to  checkmate  me:  I  hold  the  right  of  defending 
myself  in  my  own  way.  Follow  me  outside,  Mon- 
sieur, and  let  us  end  the  quarrel." 

For  answer  he  unbuckled  his  sword,  and  flung  it, 
sheath  and  all,  at  my  feet. 

"You  will  not  fight  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Sang  Dieu  !     No,  M.  le  Vicomte  !  " 

"  Then  you  cannot  blame  me    for   running   my 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  153 

blade  through  your  heart,  and  so  ridding  myself  of 
a  pestilent  rascal." 

Silvain  leered.  There  was  no  fear  in  his  eyes, 
only  a  gleam  of  unfathomable  cunning,  and  I 
slapped  back  my  rapier  with  a  curse. 

*'  M.  le  Vicomte  de  Championnet  may  be  a 
scoundrel,"  de  Cheverny  replied,  "  but  not  even  his 
deadliest  enemy  could  say  he  was  anything  but  a 
gentleman, — a  second  Bayard, — '  sans  peur  et  sans 
reproche,'  to  a  beaten  and  helpless  foe.  I  am  at 
your  feet,  Monsieur,  do  with  me  what  you  will. 
There  is  my  sword,  and  here  am  I." 

I  stayed  looking  upon  him  reflectively,  and  a  calm 
smile  of  wonderful  serenity  began  to  spread  over  his 
evil  face.  One  might  think  he  loved  me,  but  I  knew 
better.  That  smile  meant  hatred,  and  I  watched 
and  watched  Silvain,  marking  down  in  my  mind  his 
fearless  urbanity  and  unruffled  demeanour :  his 
laughing  mouth  and  the  brightening  glitter  of  his 
sunken  eyes.  For  a  few  moments  I  scarcely  knew 
how  to  pursue  my  intention  of  clearing  him  out  of 
my  sight :  I  could  not  kill  a  man  who  would  not 
resist — he  was  right  in  calling  me  a  scoundrel — he 
was  also  not  far  from  the  truth  in  believing  me  to 
be  still  a  gentleman  of  some  chivalry,  if  a  scoundrel 
and  a  gentleman  might  sail  together  under  the  name 
of   de    Championnet.     It    astonished    me    that    he 


154     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

should  be  so  well  acquainted  with  my  doings  at  the 
chateau,  and  I  congratulated  myself  that  he  knew 
nothing  of  M.  le  Due's  presence,  and  the  arrival  of 
the  Duchesse  and  Dubois. 

"  Where  did  you  leave  your  horse,  Monsieur  ?  '*  I 
demanded. 

*'  At  the  village  hostelry,"  he  replied,  and  I 
breathed  again. 

"  Did  any  one  recognise  you  ?  " 

"  No,  M.  le  Vicomte." 

"  But  you  are  not  clad  in  the  garments  I  discarded 
after  our  duel :  you  seem  to  have  done  with  the  role 
of  de  Championnet." 

**  Entirely,"  he  returned.  "  I  have  come  here  in 
my  own  right  as  Silvain  de  Cheverny,  to  denounce 
you  to  Mademoiselle  my  cousin." 

^'  Will  she  believe  you  ?  " 

"  I  shall  claim  Cheverny,"  he  said. 

"  How  can  you.  Monsieur,  with  no  pardon  to 
show?" 

"  You  will  give  it  back  to  me,"  he  implored. 

''  Perhaps,"  I  answered,  *'  but  not  until  it  suits  me 
to  do  so.  When  I  am  ready  to  make  my  adieux  to 
the  chateau — when  my  business  here  is  complete, — 
I  may  have  time,  Monsieur,  to  think  of  restoring  to 
you  your  passport  to  your  freedom  and  demesne. 
But  what  would  become  of  Mademoiselle  Aurelie  if 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  155 

I  gave  you  the  means  of  taking  possession  of  the 
chateau  in  which  she  has  spent  her  young  life  ? 
How  do  I  know  you  would  behave  as  a  gentleman 
of  honour  ? " 

*'  If  there  is  any  truth  in  the  gossip  of  maids  and 
lacqueys,  M.  le  Vicomte  has  such  an  admiration  for 
Mademoiselle  that  he  would  prefer  to  remain  here 
as  her  husband,  under  my  name,"  murmured  Silvain, 
with  a  light  laugh  which  maddened  me. 

"  By  her  permission,  I  might  do  so,"  I  returned. 

"  If  I  were  dead,"  he  reflected. 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  small  matter  !  "  I  said,  surveying 
him  with  a  smile  ;  "  and  on  second  thoughts.  Mon- 
sieur, I  have  decided  to  put  an  end  to  you  here  in 
the  salon.  Do  not  move.  Just  now  you  appealed 
to  my  honour  ;  but  in  dealing  with  rogues  one  is 
sometimes  tempted  to  forget  such  a  thing  exists, 
and  I  shall  have  no  more  compunction  in  killing  you 
than  I  should  in  spitting  a  wolf.  You  are  shaking, 
M.  de  Cheverny ;  your  face  is  grey.  Permit  me  to 
offer  you  a  cup  of  wine." 

Crossing  the  room,  I  carefully  opened  the  door  a 
few  inches,  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  catch  the 
eye  of  a  lacquey,  who  was  removing  the  remains  of 
the  card-chamber  supper,  and  bade  him  fetch  me  a 
couple  of  flasks  of  Benicario.  Taking  them  myself 
from  his  hands,  I   locked   the  door  again  and  ap- 


156      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

proached  Silvain.  He  was  staring  into  the  dead 
fire,  his  chin  on  his  breast,  and  his  mouth  half-open. 

"  Drink,  Monsieur  !  "  I  said,  and  handed  him  a 
cup  of  the  wine.  He  drained  it  eagerly  ;  the  blood 
rushed  to  his  face,  and  I  let  him  play  with  the  flask 
until  it  was  as  dry  as  his  thirsty  throat.  My  threat 
of  taking  his  life  seemed  to  have  impressed  him  to 
such  an  extent  that  he  was  desirous  of  drowning  all 
thought  of  it,  and  I  grew  secretly  merry  when,  with 
trembling  hands,  Silvain  broke  the  neck  of  the 
second  bottle  of  Benicario.  I  leaned  back  against 
the  wall,  watching  him. 

The  time  was  fast  flying — it  must  have  been  near 
three  in  the  morn — and  I  wondered  whether  I  had 
ever  spent  so  eventful  and  exciting  a  night.  The 
laughter  in  the  chamber  above  had  ceased,  and  I 
imagined  Monseigneur  the  Regent  might  have 
retired  and  the  party  dispersed  to  their  rooms. 

It  was  strange  behaviour  towards  guests  to  desert 
them  almost  on  their  entrance  to  the  chateau,  but 
the  extraordinary  exigency  of  my  position  gave  me 
no  opportunity  to  pay  even  a  flying  visit  to  the  card- 
chamber.  And  M.  le  Due  had  not  sent  for  me. 
Well,  the  discourtesy  was  not  altogether  on  one  side, 
for  it  was  nothing  short  of  the  most  outrageous  in- 
solence of  the  Regent  and  Dubois  to  make  straight 
"^  for  the  lansquenet  table  on  their  arrival  at  Cheverny. 


THE  FACE  AT  THE  WINDOW  157 

D'Anquital  was  responsible  for  that,  and  when  Ma- 
dame la  Duchesse  too  showed  a  preference  for  his 
company,  and  left  me  to  tramp  the  terrace  alone 
with  my  thoughts  and  my  chagrin,  I  certainly  felt 
no  inclination  to  seek  her  presence  again  of  my  own 
accord. 

It  was  insufferable,  my  position  at  the  chateau : 
Monseigneur,  Madame,  and  M.  I'Abbe  appeared  to 
treat  me  with  an  utter  absence  of  respect,  and  I 
began  to  believe  they  were  suspicious  of  my  faith 
to  their  little  intrigue.  That,  too,  I  put  down  to 
M.  le  Comte.  He  had,  I  daresay,  been  whispering 
a  hundred  lies  into  their  ears,  and  now  I  had  brought 
him  to  such  humiliation  there  seemed  no  doubt  he 
would  redouble  his  low  rascality. 

But  at  the  present  my  fear  was  of  Silvain,  rather 
than  of  d'Anquital. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


SILVAIN 


He  began  to  attack  the  second  flask  of  Benicarlo, 
darting  an  occasional  glance  at  me — a  glance  that 
grew  duller  and  more  drunken  as  the  m.oments 
passed.  His  face  was  reddening  fast,  and  the  pe- 
culiar movements  of  his  head,  poised  on  the  stiff  and 
still  poignantly  painful  neck,  might,  at  a  lighter  hour, 
have  made  me  laugh.  Suddenly  he  arose,  swax^ed 
to  and  fro,  and  with  a  rattling  string  of  hiccups 
requested  me  to  hand  him  his  rapier. 

I  declined. 

"  Then  you  are  a  coward,  M.  le  Vicomte  ! "  he 
said. 

"  As  you  please.  Monsieur,"  I  replied.  "  Sit 
down  and  finish  your  wine." 

He  obeyed,  but,  with  the  foolish  persistence  of 
the  drunkard,  struggled  to  his  feet  again  and  once 
more  expressed  a  desire  for  a  duel. 

"  Wait,"  I  answered. 

*Ah!    you    have    turned     coward,"    he    leered. 
158 


SILVAIN  159 

"  While  I  was  weak  you  challenged  me,  but  now  that 
the  wine  has  made  me  strong  and  eager  you  have 
no  further  desire  to  fight." 

I  scowled  at  him.  Would  the  rogue  never  fall 
asleep,  or  shut  his  eyes  in  tipsy,  maudlin  helpless- 
ness? 

When  he  tried,  for  the  third  time,  to  rise,  I 
pushed  him  roughly  back  with  my  hand,  and,  forc- 
ing a  laugh,  offered  him  the  last  drain  of  Benicarlo. 
He  hesitated  ;  but  when  I  held  the  cup  to  his  lips 
his  quivering  fingers  closed  upon  it,  and  he  drank  to 
the  dregs,  falling  almost  at  the  very  instant  into 
profound  and  bestial  slumber.  I  raised  his  eyelids  ; 
I  shook  him  twice  or  thrice  ;  but,  save  for  the  heavi- 
ness of  his  breathing,  one  might  think  he  had  been 
drugged. 

I  watched  him — exultant,  and  yet  undecided.  I 
had  mastered  the  fool  without  shedding  his  blood. 
He  was  now  at  my  mercy,  and  my  sole  desire  was 
to  cause  the  exodus  of  Monsieur  de  Cheveni}^  from 
the  chateau  to  a  place  where  he  could  neither  med- 
dle with  me  nor  my  future  schemes.  Once  rid  of 
Silvain,  I  thought  I  saw  my  way  to  deal  with  M.  le 
Comte  d'Anquital.  The  day  subsequent  to  m}^ 
arrival  I  had  made  myself  conversant  with  most  of 
the  numerous  corridors  and  rooms  of  the  chateau, 
and  during  my    explorations   I    was   much    struck 


i6o     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

with  a  singular  little  chamber  underneath  the  right 
wing  of  the  mansion,  wherein  an  illustrious  de 
Cheverny,  who  ended  his  days  as  Bishop  of  Evreux, 
some  time  about  Richelieu's  first  accession  to  power, 
was  wont  to  say  his  orisons. 

The  room  was  utterly  secluded  ;  it  was  reached 
only  through  a  long,  dark,  and  narrow  corridor,  and 
I  determined  to  drag  or  carry  Silvain  down  to  it 
and  lock  him  in.  I  went  to  the  oriel  door  and 
looked  out.  The  chateau  was  silent.  Not  even 
the  shoe  of  a  lacquey  creaked  or  tapped  upon  the 
stair,  and  running  back  to  de  Cheverny  I  flung  him 
with  a  little  difficulty  on  my  shoulder,  and  taking  a 
lamp,  staggered  from  the  salon  to  the  steps  which 
led  to  the  chamber.  Once  I  stopped  with  a  catch 
of  my  breath,  thinking  I  heard  voices,  but  the  fear 
was  bred  from  fancy,  and  a  few  minutes  later  I  was 
returning  to  the  salon,  leaving  Silvain  to  sleep  off 
his  drunkenness  in  the  good  bishop's  oratory. 

Putting  out  the  candles,  I  went  swinging  up  the 
stairs  to  bed  with  a  lighter  heart,  and  on  the  way 
peeped  into  the  card-chamber  and  had  a  start  that 
made  my  blood  run  v/arm  again.  The  room  was 
strewn  from  end  to  end  with  broken  glass :  wine 
ran  about  the  floor  like  little  streams  of  blood,  and 
although  the  lansquenet  table  was  piled  with  gold 
and  bright  with  scattered  cards,  it  was  deserted,  and 


SILVAIN  i6i 

I  saw  that  the  Regent,  Dubois,  d'Anquital,  and  M. 
de  Saint-Cloud  were  lying  almost  where  they  had 
fallen  in  the  midst  of  their  gambling,  carousing 
orgie,  and  M.  le  Marquis  de  Merivale,  kneeling  by 
a  taffeta  lounge,  was  paying  his  court  to  the 
Duchesse.  Madame  looked  superb — alluring ;  and 
although  I  knew  the  Marquis  had  lost  his  heart  to 
her — perhaps  his  soul  also, — and  that  a  month  ago 
I  should  have  called  him  out  and  striven  to  send 
my  blade  under  his  ribs  had  he  dared  come  betwixt 
her  and  me,  I  now — somewhat,  I  confess,  to  my 
surprise — hardly  felt  a  flush  when  Monsieur  offered 
his  lips,  and  the  Duchesse  accepted  them. 

"  You  to-day — another  to-morrow  !  " 

Yes,  d'Anquital  was  right,  and  I  was  now  ready 
to  believe  anything  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  de 
Berri.  She  had  freed  me  by  her  faithlessness,  and  I 
was  at  liberty  to  play  the  honnete  chevalier  once 
more — to  press  forward  towards  my  fate,  and  to  live 
only  for  Mademoiselle  Aurelie. 

I    softly  drew  the   curtain   and    retired    for    the 

night. 
II 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE   REGENT   THREATENS 

My  first  thought  on  awaking  was  to  pay  a  visit  to 
Silvain,  and  I  was  wondering  how  I  might  procure 
food  and  wine  for  him  unobserved,  when  a  lacquey 
knocked  at  the  door  and  informed  me  that  Monsei- 
gneur  the  Regent  requested  the  pleasure  of  my 
company  on  the  terrace.  The  man  also  remarked, 
in  parenthesis,  that  it  was  eleven  o'clock.  Making  a 
hurried  toilet,  I  ran  down  to  find  M.  le  Due  stroll- 
ing to  and  fro  in  a  deep  reverie.  On  seeing  me,  he 
halted,  offered  his  hand,  and  drew  me  to  the  balus- 
trade with  an  affectation  of  extreme  benevolence. 

"  Bon  jour,  M.  le  Vicomte  !  "  he  said. 

"  M.  de  Cheverny  !  "  I  corrected.  "  Monseigneur 
sometimes  forgets." 

"  True,"  he  replied.  "This  is  a  world  of  forget- 
fulness.  Well,  then,  I  wish  you  bon  jour,  M.  de 
Cheverny.  You  refrained  from  gracing  the  card- 
chamber  last  night.     Why  was  that  ?  " 

"  I  had  no  heart  for  play  or  for  wine,"  I  answered  ; 
162 


THE  REGENT  THREATENS  163 

''  and  if  you,  Monseigneur,  had  sought  bed  imme- 
diately on  your  arrival,  you  would  not  now  be  ex- 
periencingthe  discomfort  ofahot  throat  and  a  furry 
tongue."     The  Regent  laughed. 

"  Insolent  as  ever,"  he  rejoined ;  '*  but  you  must 
admit  I  look  none  the  worse  for  my  debauch." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"  One  day  you  will  pay  the  price,  M.  le  Due." 

He  frowned  and  glanced  sharply  at  me. 

**What  makes  you  turn  saint,  Monsieur?" 

"  It  is  time  one  of  us  turned  our  back  on  the 
devil,  Monseigneur," 

"  I  have  found  him  very  gay  company,"  he  said, 
with  extreme  gravity  ;  and  as  I  vouchsafed  no  an- 
swer, Philippe  d'Orleans  assumed  a  magnificent  and 
princely  authority  which  taught  me  that  I  stood  in 
the  presence  of  my  master. 

**  You  know  why  I  have  come  to  Cheverny  ?  "  he 
said,  his  eyes  freezing. 

I  bowed. 

"  Monseigneur  has  come  to  reckon  with  me,"  I 
replied,  giving  him  a  look  that  was  straight  and 
fearless. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  am  here  to  reckon  with  you, 
Monsieur.  You  commenced  your  work  well.  You 
killed  Silvain  de  Cheverny,  gained  the  confidence  of 
the  lamented  Chevalier,  and  you  have  made  a  pre- 


i64     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

tence  of  being  head  over  ears  in  love  with  that 
pretty  witch,  Mademoiselle  Aureiie.  You  see,  I 
know  all." 

''  You  know  more  than  all,  M.  le  Due,"  I  re- 
turned, but  he  ignored  my  suggestion. 

**  Having  accomplished  so  much,  you  should  by 
this  time  be  in  possession  of  the  letters,"  he  re- 
marked. 

I  bowed  again. 

"  Do  you  know  where  they  are  secreted  ?  " 

I  was  silent.  I  might  have  lied  ;  I  might  have 
been  diplomatic  ;  I  might  have  temporised  ;  but  at 
the  moment  I  seemed  not  to  care  for  Monseigneur's 
anger.  My  thoughts  went  straying  away  to  Aure- 
iie, and  instead  of  the  subtle  schemer,  the  duellist, 
and  the  willinof  rascal  who  had  started  from  the 
Luxembourg  on  a  rascal's  enterprise,  M.  le  Due 
d'Orleans  found  at  Cheverny  the  Vicomte  de  Cham- 
pionnet  of  ten  years  ago,  mellowed  and  steeled  by 
the  one  honest  passion  of  his  later  life. 

"  Do  you  know  where  those  letters  are  secreted  ?  " 
demanded  the  Regent  in  a  terrible  voice. 

His  wrath  surprised  me  :  I  never  dreamed  he 
could  give  way  to  such  a  show  of  fury ;  but  the 
more  bitter  his  rage,  the  more  stubborn  and  cool  I 
grew. 

'*  Monseigneur — "   I  began,  and   just  then   who 


THE  REGENT  THREATi:NS  165 

should  appear  but  Dubois,  with  his  ferret's  face  and 
reddened  eyes.  Philippe  d'Orl^ans  instantly  be- 
came calm,  and  the  two  surveyed  me  in  silence  for 
a  moment.     M.  TAbbe  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  M.  le  Vicomte  has  the  letters  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  No,"  said  M.  le  Due. 

*'  Eh?"  cried  the  Abb^. 

**  You  must  give  me  more  time,"  I  answered. 

"  More  time !  And  what  have  you  been  doing 
all  these  weeks  at  Cheverny  ?  " 

I  related  my  adventures— with  reservations — from 
the  hour  of  my  setting  forth  from  Paris  ;  and  so 
vivid  was  my  narrative,  that  the  Regent  partially 
recovered  his  good-humour,  and  Dubois  smiled. 

"  You  have  done  well,"  he  remarked. 

"Yes,"  I  assented,  with  complacency;  ''I  am 
carrying  out  Monseigneur's  instructions  in  every 
respect." 

*'  Are  you  ?  "  he  asked,  and  there  was  a  flash  in 
his  eyes  which  might  have  been  a  threat.  At  any 
rate,  I  took  it  as  such  ;  and  when,  a  minute  later, 
he  smiled  again,  I  understood  how  M.  I'Abbe  hated 
me.  While  Dubois  smiled  thus,  there  was  danger 
in  the  air ;  but  I  was  confident  in  my  capacity  to 
deal  with  him,  if  only  the  Regent  would  give  me 
time  to  mature  my  plans  for  the  future.  They 
whispered  together  awhile,  and  I  stood  basking  in 


i66      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

the  faint  warmth  of  the  wintry  sunbeams  which 
played  upon  the  terrace  and  stole  through  the  win- 
dows of  the  grand  salon.  Suddenly  Monseigneur's 
voice  called  me,  and  I  went  to  him. 

"  You  are  not  playing  a  double  game,  Vicomte  ?" 
he  asked. 

I  felt  the  hot  blood  burn  my  cheeks. 

**  Monseigneur  places  small  trust  in  me,"  I  replied. 

"  Friends  are  sometimes  false,"  he  reflected. 

"  I  have  never  been  false  to  you,  M.  le  Due,"  was 
my  answer. 

''Do  you  ever  intend  to  be?"  he  inquired. 
*'  Have  you  any  desire  to  abandon  your  quest  ?  " 

"  If  I  were  tired  of  my  search  for  the  letters,  I 
should  not  now  be  Avithin  the  chateau,"  I  said. 
"  I  ask  you  once  more  to  give  me  time." 

"Three  days,"  he  suggested. 

"It.  is  too  long,"  whispered  Dubois.  "Monsei- 
gneur, you  must  be  in  Paris  by  Sunday." 

"  Then  M.  le  Vicomte  will  understand  that  his  busi- 
ness here  is  to  be  concluded  by  Saturday  evening  ?  " 

"  Exactly,"  said  the  Abbe  ;  "  and  I  have  no 
doubt  the  papers  will  lie  in  our  hands  during  our 
return  to  Paris.  M.  le  Vicomte,  if  he  be  wise,  will 
not  dare  to  fail  us.     If  he  does " 

"  What  then  ?  "  I  demanded,  straightening  my 
frame,  and  turning  sharp  upon  him. 


THE  REGENT  THREATENS  167 

"  Monsieur  must  die — that  is  all !  " 

For  a  little  while  I  stayed  unconscious  of  the 
presence  of  Dubois  and  the  Regent.  The  threat 
stunned,  but  did  not  frighten  me.  Nay,  I  had  faced 
death  too  many  times  to  even  dream  of  dreading  its 
approach  ;  but  in  the  past  I  was  alone, — now  there 
was  Aurelie  to  be  protected,  and  my  love  for  Made- 
moiselle made  me  want  to  live,  if  only  for  her  sake. 
Heavens,  and  how  I  loved  her  ! 

Birds  were  chirping  in  the  gardens  below  us,  and 
the  fragrant  air  told  that  spring  was  nigh  ;  but  to 
me  all  seemed  winter,  and  my  heart  was  cold. 
Monseigneur  and  the  Abbe  were  both  watching  me 
just  as  they  had  done  in  the  Luxembourg  card- 
chamber,  and  catching  the  Regent's  eye.  I  pulled 
myself  together  and  faced  him. 

"  So  I  am  to  die  on  the  scaffold  if  I  fail  to  keep 
my  promise  ?  "  I  said. 

"  No,  not  on  the  scafTold,"  returned  M.  le  Due. 

"  Nothing  half  so  pleasant.  Monsieur,"  grinned 
Dubois.  "  You  shall  not  die  at  once — you  shall 
rot !  " 

I  made  a  quick  gesture  of  despair. 

*' Are  you  anticipating  failure?"  inquired  the 
Regent,  v/ith  a  charming  smile. 

"  Even  the  boldest  enterprise  sometimes  ends 
ingloriously,   Monseigneur.     If   I    cannot    find    the 


i68      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

papers — if  I  am  unable  to  bring  them  to  you,  I  may 
surely  count  at  the  least  on  the  death  of  a  soldier 
and  a  gentleman.  You  would  not  suffer  me  to 
perish  in  a  dungeon — you  would  remember  how  I 
and  mine  had  fought  for  France,  and  would  permit 
me  to  die  in  my  own  way." 

The  Regent  turned  away  his  face. 

"  Monsieur,  you  are  an  early  pleader,"  said  Du- 
bois, "  and  one  might  think  you  already  contem- 
plated a  little  treachery — that  you  were  indeed 
seriously  determined  to  play  us  false.  Are  you  in 
a  position  to  secure  the  letters  ?  " 

"  I  believe,  M.  I'Abbe,  that  within  three  days  I 
can  lay  hands  on  them." 

"  Pardieu  !  why  in  Heaven's  name  did  you  not 
say  so  before  ?  We  are  burning  to  crush  this 
second  conspiracy,  and  it  is  imperative  that  the 
Cardinal  Alberoni's  correspondence  shall  be  pub- 
lished to  the  world.  Had  the  Chevalier  de  Cheverny 
lived,  he  would  have  seen  his  subtle  intrigue  trod- 
den beneath  our  feet,  and  someone  must  have  paid 
the  forfeit — ay,  and  shall  pay  it  now.  We  only 
need  these  letters,  Vicomte,  to  begin  our  sport,  and 
you  shall  bring  them  to  Monseigneur,  or  die.  You 
may  have  heard  of  the  Chateau  Sainte  Roxane?  " 

I  shuddered. 

"  And  the  old  duneeons  there  ?" 


THE  REGENT  THREATENS  169 

My  face  betrayed  my  horror. 

"And  how  men  have  died  in  them?" 

I  glared  at  M.  TAbbe  in  a  dumb  fury. 

"  Their  fate  will  be  yours,  Monsieur,  if  you  fail, 
us.     Au  revoir — and  remember." 

They  went  together  into  the  chateau. 

Not  a  word  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri — 
not  a  suggestion  of  my  promised  reward !  No, 
Monseigneur  and  Dubois  imagined  they  had  bought 
me  body  and  soul,  and  were  resolved  to  defer  pay- 
ment until  I  came  to  them  in  my  shame  and  dis- 
honour with  the  priceless  sheaves  of  secrets  I  had 
wheedled  from  Mademoiselle  Aurelie.  I  laughed  a 
grim  laugh  in  my  heart.  What  now  did  I  want  of 
Madame  de  Berri  ?  What  did  I  care  for  the  richest 
gifts  of  the  Regent  of  France — for  his  favour  and 
patronage  ?  My  love  for  Aurelie  transcended  all 
which  I  once  coveted,  and  for  her  I  was  ready  to 
give  my  life  as  the  smallest  and  most  humble  offer- 
ing on  the  altar  of  my  repentance.  But  I  must  see 
her  first ;  and  then — and  then — well,  there  remained 
nothing  to  hope  for  save  a  short  martyrdom,  by  the 
favour  of  God,  in  the  dungeon  of  the  Chateau 
Sainte  Roxane. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   MARQUIS    MAKES  A   CONFESSION 

"  M.  DE  Cheverny  !  " 

I  swung  swiftly  round  on  my  heel.  It  was  the 
voice  of  the  Marquis  de  Merivale,  and  I  scarce  knew 
whether  I  was  glad  or  sorry  that  he  had  broken  in 
upon  my  sombre  reflections. 

"Yes,  M.  le  Marquis  !  "  I  said. 

"  I  am  come  to  borrow  a  horse  of  you,"  he  re- 
joined ;  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  I  noted  the 
deathly  whiteness  of  his  face.  Monsieur  was  un- 
doubtedly at  war  with  fortune  ;  and  an  English- 
man, however  gay  and  debonair  may  be  his  soul, 
takes  bad  luck  with  the  devil  of  an  ill  grace. 

"  I  trust  you  do  not  mean  to  desert  Cheverny,"  I 
said. 

"  That  is  my  intention,"  he  replied. 

"  Stay  until  Monseigneur  the  Regent  has  gone," 
I  suggested,  '^  and  Madame  la  Duchesse." 

"  I'll  be  damned  if  I  do  !  "  he  cried. 

"  M.  le  Marquis,  you  are  either  in  trouble  or  in 

love." 

170 


THE  MARQUIS  MAKES  A  CONFESSION     171 

"  They  are  one  and  the  same  thing,"  Monsieur 
answered.  "  I  am  tired  of  Cheverny,  M.  de  Che- 
verny,  and  I  am  weary  of  France.  Will  you  lend 
me  a  horse  or  no  ?  " 

"  I  have  only  one,"  I  said,  "  and  I  cannot  spare 
her,  even  to  you." 

*'  There  are  a  dozen  in  your  stables  ! "  he  ex- 
claimed. 

**  They  are  not  mine,  M.  le  Marquis." 

"Not  yours?"  he  cried.  "But  all  Cheverny  is 
in  your  hands! " 

"  Nay !  "  I  replied.  "  It  is  still  Mademoiselle 
Aurelie's.  Go  to  her.  Monsieur,  and  borrow  as 
many  horses  as  you  please.  She  is  chatelaine 
here." 

His  eyes  widened  in  amazement.  He  took  a  few 
short  steps  along  the  terrace,  turned  to  me  again, 
and,  to  my  intense  surprise,  offered  his  hand. 

*'  I  have  done  you  wrong,  M.  de  Cheverny.  I 
have  thought  evil  of  you." 

"  Many  have  done  the  same,"  I  remarked. 

"Am  I  too  late  to  ask  your  pardon?"  he  in- 
quired. 

"  It  is  never  too  late  to  right  a  wrong,  M.  le  Mar- 
quis ;  but  I  daresay  in  the  past  you  have  done  well 
in  thinking  me  a  very  black  scoundrel." 

"  I  was  mistaken  "  he  hastened  to  admit. 


172      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Not  altogether,"  I  replied.  "  But  what  matter? 
Monsieur  has  offered  me  his  hand,  and  I  have  taken 
it.     Let  the  past  die  !  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said.     ''  Let  it  die." 

"  Mademoiselle  ma  cousine  will  be  sorry  to  lose 
you,"  I  ventured  to  suggest,  and  his  face  turned  a 
fine  rich  scarlet. 

"  I  believe  you  to  be  a  gentleman  of  honour,"  he 
replied,  in  his  old  charming  way. 

I  bowed. 

"  And  therefore,"  M.  le  Marquis  continued,  ^*  I 
have  no  scruple  in  making  you  a  confession." 

I  bowed  again. 

*'  As  Monsieur  pleases,"  I  observed. 

"  I  came  here  to  woo  Mademoiselle  Aurelie,"  he 
announced.  "  The  Chevalier  and  my  father  were 
old  friends,  and  they  arranged  that  I  should  marry 
her.     I  was  quite  willing." 

My  heart  leaped,  but  I  stayed  silent,  and  out- 
wardly calm. 

The  Marquis  lowered  his  voice  and  proceeded  : 

"  At  my  first  words  of  love  Mademoiselle  laughed 
in  my  face.  I  laughed  too, — it  is  my  characteristic 
curse  that  no  one  takes  me  seriously, — but  I  had 
by  no  means  lost  hope  of  winning  her  when  you 
arrived." 

"Yes,  Monsieur,  and  what  then?"  I  said. 


THE  MARQUIS  MAKES  A  CONFESSION     173 

"  Everything  went  wrong  from  the  time  you 
caught  us  cock-fighting  in  the  chamber,"  he  re- 
turned. 

*'  I  was  an  unwelcome  guest  to  you  all,"  I  mur- 
mured. 

"  Not  to  the  Chevalier.  You  were  his  nephew — 
you  had  grown  up  beneath  the  roof  of  his  chateau  ; 
you  were  his  brother's  legacy  to  him,  and  blood  is 
thicker  than  wine,  Monsieur.  It  was  quite  natural 
he  should  receive  you  gladly." 

"  But  you  and  Mademoiselle  possessed  sharper 
eyes,  M.  le  Marquis.  You  saw  '  rogue  '  written  on 
my  face." 

I  could  not  resist  a  little  thrill  of  malice  in  thus 
throwing  the  bitterness  of  my  reception  in  his 
teeth,  and  the  Marquis  flushed  again. 

''  We  agreed  to  let  the  past  die,"  he  quietly  re- 
marked. "  M.  de  Cheverny,  I  have  given  up  all  in- 
tention of  pleading  afresh  for  the  hand  of  Mademoi- 
selle Aurelie.  As  you,  I  presume,  are  acting  some- 
what as  her  guardian,  it  is  only  right  that  I  should 
tell  you.  So  I  leave  for  Paris  at  once,  and  shall 
return  to  England  within  the  month.  If  I  could  be 
of  service  to  Mademoiselle,  I  would  stay.  I  would 
wipe  out  my  dishonour  with  my  life,  if  'twere  possi- 
ble to  do  so  !  " 

"  Dishonour  !  "  I  said. 


174     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

'*  Yes,  Monsieur,  my  dishonour — call  it  lack  of  loy- 
alty if  you  will.  Last  night  I  made  a  declaration  of 
love  to  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri.  I  forgot 
Aurelie,  I  forgot  that  I  had  sworn  to  win  her,  and 
Madame's  fascination  played  the  devil  with  me ! 
There,  M.  de  Cheverny,  you  have  the  truth ! " 

**  And  did  Madame ?"  I  began. 

*'  Last  night  we  were  as  lovers — to-day  she  laughs 
at  me,"  broke  in  the  Marquis,  with  astonishing 
passion. 

'*Ah!"I  said,  and  for  the  moment  my  breath 
came  fast.  Pardieu  !  what  in  Heaven's  name  would 
happen  next  ? 

"Yes,  she  laughs  at  me,"  he  repeated.  ''And 
what  do  you  think  she  told  me.  Monsieur  ? — that 
she  was  your  promised  wife — she,  the  daughter  of 
Philippe  d'Orleans,  Regent  of  France  !  She  whis- 
pered it  in  my  ear  this  morning  when  I  met  her  in 
the  salon." 

I  could  not  speak — I  was  dumfounded  at  the 
audacity  of  the  incorrigible  Duchesse.  I  should 
not  now  have  been  surprised  to  hear  that  she  had 
made  love  to  d'Anquital,  and  M.  Maury  de  Saint- 
Cloud,  or  even  Dubois,  in  addition  to  the  Marquis 
de  Merivale.  Ciel,  what  a  woman  !  And  to  boast 
openly  that  she  was  to  become  my  wife  !  Was  she 
playing  v/ith  my  name  for  mere  wanton  malice,  or 


THE  MARQUIS  MAKES  A  CONFESSION     175 

had  she  in  reality  an  occasional  passion  for  me  ? 
God  only  knew ! 

"Was  Madame  lying?"  demajjded  the  Marquis. 

"  How  can  I  say  ?  "  I  returned. 

*'  Honour  is  scarce  among  women  !  "  he  observed, 
with  extreme  bitterness.  "  There  is  none  true — no, 
not  one !  " 

"  There  is  Mademoiselle  Aurelie,"  I  said.  "  M.  le 
Marquis,  you  have  been  frank  to  me  ;  I  will  now  be 
frank  to  you.  Madame  la  Duchesse  and  I  once  ex- 
changed vows  ;  but  they  are  broken,  and  you  are 
free  to  win  her  love." 

''  The  love  of  Madame  blossoms  at  night,  and  is 
dead  by  the  morning,"  he  replied,  ''When  she 
told  me  she  was  your  betrothed,  Monsieur,  I  could 
have  killed  you." 

I  smiled. 

"  I  know  this  feeling  well,  M.  le  Marquis.  There 
is  Mademoiselle  Aurelie  at  the  window,  and  if  you 
insist  on  making  your  adieux,  the  present  is  an 
excellent  opportunity." 

''  Good-day,  Monsieur,"  he  said  ;  and  our  hands 
met  again.  I  watched  him  enter  the  salon  with  a 
brilliant  effort  at  gaiety,  and  wondered  what  chance 
I  should  have  had  of  winning  Mademoiselle  if  he 
were  my  rival.  I  began  to  understand  something 
of  Aurelie's  pride — her  reserve,  her  extraordinary 


176      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

independence.  When  d'Anquital  thrust  himself 
into  the  chateau  she  called  on  me  for  aid  ;  when  she 
faced  him  in  the  salon  it  was  I,  and  not  the  Mar- 
quis, whom  she  named  as  her  champion. 

No;  she  did  not  fly  to  M.  de  Merivale.  And 
why?  Because  the  intensity  of  her  pride  restrained 
her  from  claiming  the  protection  of  the  man  who  had 
offered  her  his  hand  and  fortune,  and  been  repulsed  ; 
because  M.  le  Marquis  should  not  think  that  she 
had  changed  her  mind,  and  now  desired  his  love — 
that  he  should  not  think  she  was  recognising  in  him 
her  one  friend.  It  is  true  she  called  him  while  I  held 
the  door  on  the  night  of  M.  le  Chevalier's  death  ; 
but  as  soon  as  she  admitted  my  right  to  remain  at 
Cheverny,  and  owned  me  as  the  master,  there  were  no 
more  appeals  to  the  Marquis.  And  yet  I  could  not 
imagine  any  woman  failing  to  fall  in  love  with  him. 

I  was  by  no  means  sure  that  Aurelie,  far  down  in 
her  heart,  had  not  sometimes  wished  to  change  pro- 
tectors ;  and  as  for  Madame  de  Berri's  fascination 
— well,  stronger  men  even  than  M.  de  Merivale  had 
succumbed  to  it.  Madame's  lovers  were  like  moths 
around  a  light — they  were  drawn  by  an  almost 
irresistible  charm  to  her  feet ;  and  I  do  not  believe 
that  any  woman  in  France  possessed  such  a  subtle 
power  to  lure  fools  to  her  pleasure  as  the  Grand 
Duchesse  of  the  Luxembourg. 


THE  MARQUIS  MAKES,  A  CONFESSION     177 

In  a  little  while  I  saw  tw^o  horsemen  ride  slowly- 
down  towards  the  village,  and  knew  that  the  Eng- 
lishman had  kept  his  word,  and  was  on  his  way 
to  Paris  with  his  valet  and  his  fighting-cocks.  My 
next  thought  wasof  Silvain,  and  procuring  food  and 
wine,  I  carefully  descended  to  the  little  oratory, 
unlocked  the  strong  door,  and  looked  in.  He  was 
still  slumbering.  His  muddy  coat  trailed  the  floor; 
his  shirt  was  torn  and  sodden  by  the  Benicarlo  he 
had  spilled  over  it,  and  his  breeches  were  in  rags. 
I  actually  felt  some  sort  of  compassion  towards  the 
wretch,  and,  securing  the  door,  I  stealthily  fetched 
some  of  my  own  clothes,  and,  shaking  his  shoulders, 
forced  him  at  last  to  arise  and  array  himself  in  a 
braided  riding-jacket  and  a  clean  shirt.  With  my 
assistance,  he  made  a  slovenly  toilet,  and  drank 
greedily  from  the  wine  flask  ;  but,  although  he  recog- 
nised he  was  in  my  power,  Monsieur  Silvain  never 
so  much  as  opened  his  hps. 

More  than  once  I  spoke  to  him.  His  only  an- 
swer was  a  sly  leer ;  and  after  a  time,  growing 
thoroughly  weary  of  his  company,  I  backed  again 
towards  the  door,  leaving  him  standing  just  under- 
neath an  old  blurred  painting  of  Cardinal  de  Che- 
verny.  Then,  as  I  was  leaving,  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  his  profile,  and  the  peculiar  resemblance  between 

us   struck   me   afresh.     Given    my   clear   eyes  and 
12 


178      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

brown  wear-and-tear  face,  instead  of  his  own  coars- 
ened visage,  and  he  might  easily  pass  as  the  Vi- 
comte  de  Championnet.  I  banged  the  door  on  him, 
and  he  laughed.  I  little  knew  what  that  laugh 
meant ;  but  there  came  an  hour  when  I  understood 
it  to  the  full. 

I  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  Aurelie  seated  with 
Madame  Rochette  in  an  anteroom  of  the  salon. 
Not  a  sign  of  the  Regent,  Dubois,  or  Madame  la 
Duchesse.  And  d'Anquital,  where  was  he,  with 
the  cross  my  red-hot  rapier  had  marked  upon 
his  brow?  On  glancing  into  the  card-chamber  the 
previous  night,  I  noticed  that  a  great  tangle  of  hair 
was  tumbling  down  almost  to  his  closed,  drunken 
eyes  ;  and  so,  to  hide  the  scar,  he  w^ould  have  to 
wear  it  all  his  life;  How  the  grandes  dames  of  the 
Palais-Royal  would  laugh  on  his  return  !  Sooner  or 
later  the  secret  of  that  cross  would  leak  out,  and  I 
could  realise  that  M.  le  Comte  hated  and  loathed 
me  more  than  anyone  in  the  whole  world  for  thus 
branding  him,  as  one  might  brand  a  galley-slave, 
with  a  mark  which  would  last  until  his  body  became 
dust. 

"  So  we  have  lost  M.  le  Marquis,"  I  said,  sunning 
myself  in  Mademoiselle's  smiles. 

''  Yes,  he  was  tired  of  Cheverny,"  she  replied,  and 
Madame  Rochette  discreetly  vacated  her  chair  and 


THE  MARQUIS  MAKES  A  CONFESSION     179 

retired  to  her  boudoir.  Madame  knew  little,  but 
she  guessed  much,  and  I  owe  her  an  eternal  grati- 
tude. 

"  Where  is  the  Duchesse  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  With  the  rest  of  our  guests,"  said  Aurelie. 
"  Silvain,  when  shall  we  be  rid  of  them  ?  " 

"  Soon,"  I  returned.  "  Have  patience.  Mademoi- 
selle ;  have  patience." 

"  They  are  now  gone  riding,"  she  answered. 

''  All  of  them  ?  " 

"  Yes,  even  M.  de  Saint-Cloud." 

"  He  is  probably  in  love  with  Madame  la  Du- 
chesse," I  observed,  and  Aurelie's  eyes  gleamed. 

"  You  have  not  encountered  Madame  this  morn- 
ing? "  I  asked. 

"  Neither  her  nor  the  others,"  she  returned.  **  M. 
le  Comte  d'Anquital  has  taken  j^our  horse.  What 
do  you  think  of  that.  Monsieur  ?  " 

''  Indeed  !  "  I  said,  my  blood  warming. 

*'  Did  he  ask  your  permission  ?  " 

I  shook  my  head. 

*'  Why  do  they  dare  use  Cheverny  as  though 
'twere  their  own  ?  "  cried  Mademoiselle,  with  exqui- 
site fire.     "  Why  do  you  allow  them  ?  " 

''  One  cannot  sa}^  '  nay  '  to  the  Regent  of  France," 
I  replied. 

''  The  grooms  tell  me  they  will  be  back  in  an 


i8o     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

hour,"  she  said.  *'  I  cannot  meet  them,  Silvain.  I 
would  rather  work  in  the  fields  all  my  life  as  a  peas- 
ant-woman— I  would  rather  die  than  remain  in  the 
chateau  another  week  !     Take  me  away  !  " 

''  You  are  overwrought,"  I  said.  "  Come,  Made- 
moiselle, there  are  yet  horses  in  the  stables.  Let 
us  ride  together,  and  spend  the  day  among  the 
woods.  Perhaps  some  escape  for  you  may  suggest 
itself.  I  had  thought  of  M.  Maury  de  Saint-Cloud's 
chateau  as  a  possible  refuge  during  the  rest  of  the 
time  Monseigneur  will  be  here.  But  he  leaves  for 
Paris  on  Saturday." 

"  And  will  Madame  la  Duchesse  accompany  him, 
and  Dubois,  and  M.  le  Comte  ?  " 

*'  Undoubtedly,"  I  said. 

"  Then  I  will  remain  at  Cheverny,"  she  replied. 
"  I  do  not  like  M.  de  Saint-Cloud,  and  here,  at  least, 
I  shall  be  sure  of  your  protection." 

"  Always,  Mademoiselle,"  I  answered,  and  she  ran 
off  to  array  herself  in  the  white  and  silver  riding- 
habit  which  suited  her  so  charmingly. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

TRAGEDY 

Ah,  that  day  among  the  woods — were  there  ever 
hours  so  sweet  and  yet  so  bitter  ?  To  love  Made- 
moiselle with  a  love  that  was  maddening — to  ride 
on  and  on  at  her  side — to  feel  that  she  might  at  the 
last  be  won,  and  yet  to  know  my  way  led  not  to  her, 
but  to  one  of  the  dungeons  of  the  Chateau  Sainte 
Roxane.  Sang  Dieu,  what  a  thought,  and  what  a  mis- 
ery !  Yes,  I  was  resolved  to  die  :  I  was  resolved  to 
give  my  life  instead  of  the  letters  of  conspiracy  into 
the  hands  of  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans. 

Monseigneur,  with  characteristic  generosity,  had 
pardoned  Madame  du  Maine,  and  forgotten  her  first 
intrigue  :  it  was  scarce  likely  he  would  be  so  merci- 
ful a  second  time  ;  and  if  Madame  suffered,  others 
must  suffer  too — perhaps  Aurelie  among  them, 
unless  she  consented  to  accompany  M.  le  Due  or 
d'Anquital  to  the  Palais-Royal. 

I  rode  homeward  almost  in  silence.     Sometimes 

Mademoiselle    rallied    me    on   my   reticent   gloom  : 

sometimes  she  strove  to  fetch  a  smile  to  my  lips  by 

a  fiash  of  her  ready  wit  ;  but  I  knew  her  gaiety  was 

forced,  and  so  great  a  coward   had  I  become  that 

i8i 


i82      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

when  the  lights  of  Cheverny  twinkled  through  the 
pearly  mists  of  evening  I  was  still  powerless  to  tell 
her  that  ere  long  I  must  leave  her  to  fight  the  battle 
of  life  alone. 

More  than  once  I  was  tempted  to  break  my  word 
of  honour  to  the  Regent,  and  to  compel  Mademoi- 
selle to  fly  with  me  ;  more  than  once  I  swore  to 
ignore  my  sacred  oath  to  Madame  la  Duchesse ;  but 
then  the  old  pride  swelled  up  again  in  my  heart,  and 
I  determined  to  be  true.  No,  neither  the  Regent 
nor  Madame  should  say  I  could  not  keep  a  promise, 
and,  however  base  they  proved,  however  faithless, 
I  would  show  them  that  I  was  not  unworthy  of  the 
name  of  de  Championnet.  I  would  pay  the  whole 
penalty  :  I  would  wipe  out  all  the  stains  on  my 
honour  with  whatever  punishment  God  might  choose, 
even  though  it  were  a  loathsome  death  in  the  Cha- 
teau Sainte  Roxane  ! 

And  so,  in  perfect  silence,  Aurelie  and  I  alighted 
from  our  saddles  and  ascended  to  the  terrace.  We 
were  met  by  Monseigneur's  valet  with  a  request 
from  the  Regent  that  we  would  join  him  at  lans- 
quenet in  the  card-chamber  at  eight  o'clock. 

I  looked  at  Mademoiselle.  She  was  watching  me, 
and  the  next  moment  I  had  made  up  my  mind. 

"Tell  Monseigneur  that  Mademoiselle  de  Che- 
verny  and  I  will  be  there,"  I  said  ;  and  the  lacquey 
slipped  away  to  his  master,  leaving  me  to  the  re- 
proaches of  Aurelie. 


TRAGEDY  183 

"  I  thought  you  would  have  replied  *  No,'  "  she 
began.  "  How  can  I  meet  those  men  and  Madame 
la  Duchesse  ?  " 

''  Mademoiselle,  it  would  not  have  been  politic  to 
refuse,"  I  urged.     "  BeHeve  me,  I  know  best." 

"  I  cannot  understand  it  all,"  she  said,''  and  some- 
times, Silvain,  I  doubt  you,  even  now." 

In  my  misery  I  bit  my  lips  until  they  bled. 

"  Your  behaviour  has  been  so  strange,"  she  con- 
tinued, her  voice  growing  sharp  and  hard. 

"  Yes,  Mademoiselle,"  I  replied. 

"  And  you  are  so  afraid  of  the  Regent." 

''  For  your  sake  alone,"  I  said  ;  and  then,  to  my 
surprise,  she  burst  into  a  great  flood  of  tears  and 
ran  away  up  the  stairs.  When  God  created  woman 
He  placed  beside  man  the  greatest  puzzle  that 
ever  He  made,  and  I  knew  not  whether  Aurelie 
was  angry,  sad,  or  sorry;  but  at  eight  o'clock, 
when  I  emerged  from  my  room,  I  found  her 
waiting  for  me  at  some  little  distance  from  the 
card-chamber,  and  we  entered  together  under  the 
insolent  blaze  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Bern's 
eyes. 

"  A  pair  of  truants  !  "  laughed  Monseigneur,  as  I 
made  my  bow  ;  "  but  where  is  the  third  ?  " 

"  Your  Highness  means  M.  le  Marquis  de  Meri- 
vale?"  I  said,  seating  myself  by  M.  de  Saint- 
Cloud.  "Well,  by  this  time  he  should  be  Hearing 
Paris." 


i84     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

Madame's  face  was  a  storm. 

''  Nearing  Paris  ?  "  exclaimed  the  Regent. 

"  He  had  grown  weary  of  Cheverny,"  I  returned, 
with  a  wicked  thrill  in  my  heart.  It  was  good 
sport  to  watch  the  Duchesse. 

"  But  he  possessed  not  even  the  manners  to  make 
his  adieux,"  said  Monseigneur. 

'•  Save  to  Mademoiselle,  M.  le  Due,  and  to  me," 
and  my  glance  wandered  again  to  the  face  of 
Madame.  It  was  now  a  picture  of  serenity,  and  if 
the  Duchesse  ever  experienced  the  ill-fortune  of 
being  driven  from  the  Luxembourg  into  the  streets, 
she  would  never  starve  while  she  remained  so  great 
an  actress. 

Aurelie,  at  M.  I'Abbe's  invitation,  took  a  chair  at 
a  lansquenet  table,  and  with  exquisite  abandon 
commenced  to  deal  the  cards.  All  her  reserve  had 
gone,  she  was  brilliant  and  fascinating  to  a  perfectly 
alarming  degree,  and  Monseigneur,  Dubois,  and  M. 
de  Saint-Cloud  clustered  round  her  with  a  shower 
of  light  flattery  that  might  have  turned  the  head  of 
a  woman  less  mistress  of  her  heart  and  her  will. 
She  bandied  words  with  M.  le  Due,  she  hid  her 
laughing  face  at  a  most  indelicate  jest  of  the  disrep- 
utable Abbe,  and  when  M.  de  Saint-Cloud  would 
have  claimed  the  privilege  of  an  old  friend  and 
kissed  her  fingers.  Mademoiselle  snatched  them 
away  and  presented  his  lips  with  the  fringe  of  her 
fan. 


TRAGEDY  185 

I  looked  at  Madame  la  Duchesse,  and  she  sur- 
veyed me  in  silence,  and  then  I  noticed  that  d'An- 
quital  was  not  in  the  chamber.  Had  he,  too,  flown 
from  Cheverny  ?  I  crossed  the  room  and  took  a 
seat  by  Madame's  side.  She  was  half  reclining  on 
the  taffeta  lounge,  and  I  never  saw  her  look  more 
splendid — more  bewitching.  She  was  in  purple  to- 
night :  her  hair  was  thick  with  jewels,  and  as  she 
lazily  moved  her  fan  I  could  feel  its  perfume  on  my 
face,  while  now  and  then  her  languorous  eyes  would 
open  to  their  fullest  brilliance,  hold  mine  for  an 
instant  chained,  and  slowly  close  again  until  one 
might  think  she  slept. 

Aurelie  and  her  illustrious  partners  were  playing 
lansquenet  with  a  wild  warmth  ;  the  laughter  grew 
with  the  slapping  of  the  cards  upon  the  table,  and 
the  chink-chink  of  the  gold,  and  I  began  to  be 
afraid  of  Mademoiselle — I  began  to  dread  that  she 
was  intoxicated  by  a  pleasure  which  would  draw 
her  away  to  Paris,  and  to  the  life  which  must  inevi- 
tably accompany  her  presence  at  the  Palais-Royal. 
Monseigneur  was  a  charming  lover,  and  there  were 
few  women  in  France  who  would  care  to  resist  the 
attentions  of  the  Regent — fewer  still  who  would 
scorn  him. 

Again  and  again  my  glance  stole  off  to  the  lithe, 
swaying  figure  of  Aurelie  de  Cheverny,  as  she  reck- 
lessly bent  now  towards  one,  then  towards  another 
of  the  players, — again  and  again  I  shivered  at  the 


i86     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

sound  of  their  laughter,  and  at  last  Madame  de 
Berri  touched  my  arm. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  M.  le  Vicomte  ?  " 
she  whispered. 

I  instinctively  recoiled  from  her. 

"  Nothing,  Madame,"  I  replied. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  me  altogether  ?  "  she  in- 
quired, in  a  still  softer  voice. 

''  There  are  some  things  one  can  never  forget," 
I  said. 

"  Ah,"  she  returned,  "  but  to-morrow,  Vi- 
comte  " 

"  What  then,  Duchesse?  "  I  asked. 

*'  You  will  redeem  your  promise,"  she  murmured, 
''  and  I " 

*'  Yes,  Madame,"  I  breathed,  with  intense  appre- 
hension.    *'  And  you " 

"  I  shall  be  yours,  she  said,  in  a  voice  so  low  that 
it  scarcely  reached  my  ears. 

'*  But,  Madame,  you  do  not  love  me,"  I  replied. 
"  You  openly  scorned  me  before  M.  le  Comte  d'An- 
quital." 

*'  Oh,  the  poor  Comte  !  "  she  whispered.  *'  He 
is  mad  for  love  of  me  !  But  can  I  help  that,  Mon- 
sieur ?  Can  I  be  blamed  if  a  hundred  men  come  of 
their  own  free-will  to  kiss  my  feet  ?  " 

''  They  do  not  always  content  themselves  with 
kissing  your  feet,  Duchesse.  They  seek  your  lips, 
and  sometimes  find  them." 


TRAGEDY  187 

"  Vicomte !  you  are  insufferable !  You  have 
quarrelled  with  M.  le  Comte,  and  that  is  what  has 
made  you  so  bitter." 

''  The  truth  is  often  unpalatable,  Madame.  I 
wish  no  ill  to  M.  d'Anquital." 

**  You  have  fought  him  already,"  she  said,  with  a 
woman's  shrewdness.  "  Why  does  he  wear  his  hair 
over  his  eyes  ?  You  have  fought  him,  Monsieur, 
and  your  sword  has  hurt  his  brow.  There,  I  have 
guessed  aright,  and  you  cannot  deny  it." 

*'  There  is  no  woman  in  the  world  save  one,  worth 
the  shedding  of  a  man's  blood,"  I  returned,  and  the 
Duchesse  touched  my  arm  again,  almost  caressingly. 

"  I  am  yours — always,"  she  whispered.  **  But 
you  must  not  have  another  duel  with  M.  le  Comte 
about  me.  Go  and  make  friends  with  him.  He  is 
somewhere  on  the  terrace  or  in  the  salon." 

''Thirsting  for  my  life,"  I  lightly  replied,  and  I 
could  have  laughed  to  think  how  Madame  was  de- 
ceived in  me :  how  she  imagined  I  was  still  within 
her  power  :  how  she  was  convinced  that  d'Anquital 
and  I  had  fought  in  a  mad  rivalry  for  her  love. 

"  Why  did  M.  le  Marquis  de  Merivale  leave  so 
suddenly?"  she  asked,  after  a  dreamy  soliloquy. 

"  Madame  la  Duchesse  knows  best,"  I  answered. 
*'  Sacre  !  what  is  that  ?  " 

I  sprang  to  my  feet.  Madame's  face  turned  white 
as  snow.  The  card-players  had  arisen,  and  the 
lansquenet  table  lay   on  the   floor,  the  rich  violet 


i88     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

carpet  shimmering  with  scattered  gold,  when  the 
cry  came  a  second  time,  and  trailed  off  into  a  loud, 
sharp  scream.  Then  silence  fell.  I  flung  open  the 
window,  and  looked  down  upon  the  terrace.  The 
night  was  black  and  moonless,  but  the  red  light  that 
streamed  through  one  of  the  great  lattices  of  the 
salon  showed  me  the  low  marble  balustrade,  and 
just  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  thick  pillars,  two  dark, 
intertwined  forms. 

"  Mort  Christ !  "  I  gasped,  and  leaving  the  card- 
chamber,  I  ran  down  the  stairs,  raced  through  the 
salon,  and,  followed  by  half-a-dozen  frightened 
lacqueys,  tore  open  a  window  and  stepped  out  upon 
the  terrace,  calling  for  candles. 

Breath  of  France  !  and  w^hat  a  sight  met  my  eyes  ! 
There  at  my  feet  lay  Silvain  de  Cheverny,  his  hands 
and  feet  fastened  to  the  throat  of  M.  le  Comte 
d'Anquital,  whose  awful  face  told  me  he  had  died 
the  death  of  a  strangled  wolf.  His  stiff  fingers  still 
clutched  a  sword,  bloodied  at  the  point ;  and  by  the 
little  red  stream  that  trickled  down  de  Cheverny's 
back,  I  knew  he  had  been  stabbed  from  behind  by 
M.  le  Comte's  rapier.  Then,  in  an  instant,  the 
whole  tragedy  flashed  upon  me.  Silvain  must  have 
escaped  from  the  Cardinal's  oratory  and  made  his 
way  to  the  terrace,  thinking,  no  doubt,  to  give  me 
the  devil's  own  fright,  or,  better  still,  to  ent^r  the 
chateau  and  spring  a  mine  on  me  in  the  presence  of 
Aurelie.     Now  I  understood  his  leer  and  mocking 


TRAGEDY  189 

laugh;  I  saw  that  he,  and  not  I,  held  the  cards 
since  the  moment  I  locked  him  in  the  chamber,  and 
he  only  remained  there  to  await  the  most  favourable 
opportunity  of  walking  round  to  the  salon  and  sur- 
prising me  by  a  masterly  coup  d'etat. 

Some  secret  exit  from  the  oratory  was  known  to 
him,  and  he  was  stealing  along  the  corridor,  gloat- 
ing o'er  his  plans,  when  d'Anquital,  nursing  his 
hatred  forme  well  back  in  the  shadow  of  the  chateau, 
thought  that  'twas  I  who  came,  and  was  unashamed 
to  settle  scores  by  playing  the  despicable  assassin.  I 
wondered  who  had  screamed  :  it  might  have  been 
Silvain,  but  I  would  sooner  think  it  was  M.  le 
Comte,  when  de  Cheverny  made  his  spring,  with  the 
life-blood  rippling  from  his  back,  and  fixed  his  teeth 
as  fast  as  a  hound  on  d'Anquital's  throat. 

My  thoughts  stunned  m.e  as  I  snatched  a  gutter- 
ing candle  from  a  lacquey  and  bent  down  to  take 
my  last  long  look  at  them  both,  and  M.  le  Comte's 
face  was  horrifying  enough  to  give  me  bad  dreams 
for  a  month.  When  I  raised  my  head  again  Mon- 
seigneur  the  Regent,  accompanied  by  the  rest,  was 
stepping  out  of  the  salon,  and  in  a  moment  Madame's 
little  white  slippers  were  wet  with  the  blood  that 
ran  from  Silvain's  wound  to  race  around  her  feet. 

"  Mille  diables !  "  cried  Dubois,  forgetting  all 
caution.  "  It  is  Silvain  de  Cheverny  !  "  And  M. 
le  Due  echoed  his  words. 

"  Silvain  de  Cheverny  !  "    It  was  the  voice  of  Ma- 


190      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

demoiselle  Aurelie,  and  her  face  was  enough  to  scare 
even  a  ghost  ;  while  the  Duchesse,  completely  losing 
command  of  her  wits,  burst  into  a  sudden  peal  of 
hysterical  laughter — laughter  that  made  me  thrill. 
For  the  instant  I  think  Madame  went  mad,  and  I 
shall  never  forget  her  eyes  as  they  clung  with  an 
awful  fascination  to  the  faces  of  de  Cheverny  and 
M.  le  Comte  ;  and  when  a  long-drawn  sob  from 
Aurelie  forced  me  to  glance  round,  I  saw  her  reel 
back  against  the  balustrade  with  both  hands  clasped 
across  her  brow.  Then  she  swept  past  us  into  the 
salon  with  a  magnificent  calmness  which  appalled 
me.  I  followed  her  in  the  wake  of  Dubois  and 
Monseigneur,  who  led  Madame  la  Duchesse  by  the 
hand,  and  then,  motioning  the  lacqueys  and  M.  de 
Saint-Cloud  away,  the  Regent  closed  the  window. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  silence  reigned  for  hours, 
and  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  trembled  in  my 
shoes.  But  soon  the  old  courage  came  flooding 
back  again — I  had  thrown  my  last  card,  and  the 
game  was  up,  so  there  was  nothing  left  but  to  face 
Aurelie,  the  Duchesse,  and  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans, 
and  to  face  them  well  I 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

DE    CHAMPIONNET    PLAYS    THE     MAN 

AURELIE  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

''  Monsieur,  if  Silvain  de  Cheverny  lies  dead  on 
the  terrace,  who  are  you  ?  "  she  demanded,  in  a 
voice  that  was  clear  and  cold  as  ice. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  I  replied,  "  I  am  the  Vicomte 
de  Championnet  !  " 

It  was  as  though  a  bomb  had  fallen  in  the  salon. 
Monseigneur  let  off  a  string  of  oaths  :  M.  I'Abbe's 
blasphemy  was  loud  enough  to  rattle  up  to  heaven, 
and  Madame  de  Berri  flung  herself  back  in  a  seat 
with  the  word  **  Fool !  fool!"  ringing  again  and 
again  from  her  lips. 

And  Aurelie  stood  by  the  hearth,  white  and  calm, 
gazing  at  me  with  a  look  that  was  terrible. 

"  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny,"  I  said,  "  I  came  to 

the  chateau  in  the  guise  of  your  cousin  that  I  might 

worm  from  the  Chevalier  some  secrets  relating  to  a 

certain  intrigue  which  M.  le  Due  imagined  had  been 

fostered  by  Cardinal  Alberoni  and  the  Duchesse  du 

Maine.     You  know  how  I  succeeded  ?  " 

*'  To  my  cost,  Monsieur,"  she  replied. 

191 


192      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

I  felt  my  blood  growing  colder,  but  I  did  not  flinch. 
"You    are    now    beyond    even  my  hatred,"  con- 
tinued Aurelie.     ''  You  are  more  base  than  M.  le 
Comte  d'Anquital." 

"You  lash  me  cruelly,  Mademoiselle." 

"  And  how  have  you  served  me,  M.  le  Vicomte  ? 
How  have  you  kept  faith  ?  I  will  not  curse  you, 
God  will  do  that :  but  my  onty  hope  is  this.  Mon- 
sieur, that  every  night  you  will  be  haunted  by 
visions  of  those  whom  you  have  played  false  ;  that 
you  will  see  them  wending  their  way  to  the  dungeon 
or  the  scaffold,  and  feel  that  you,  and  you  alone, 
sent  them  to  their  fate.  And  what  will  Madame  du 
Maine  now  think  of  her  Bayard  ?  You  were  not 
killed  in  the  duel  near  Pontigny  after  all — that,  too, 
was  a  trick  to  blind  our  eyes  !  " 

"  Yes,  Mademoiselle,  I  knew  Silvain  de  Cheverny 
was  coming  to  the  chateau.  I  waylaid  him  on  the 
road,  and  left  him  for  dead.  I  took  his  clothes  and 
his  rings,  and  deceived  you  ;  and  there  is  little  need 
for  me  to  say  more.  All  was  going  well  until  Sil- 
vain re-appeared,  and  I  was  forced  to  make  him 
drunk  that  I  might  hide  him  from  you." 

*'  And  where  did  you  hide  him  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  In  the  oratory,"  I  replied.     "  I  locked  him  in." 

She  laughed  mirthlessly. 

"  Did  you  know  that  behind  the  Cardinal's  por- 
trait there  was  a  secret  exit  from  the  chateau  ?  Ah  ! 
I  see  you  were  duped,  M.  le  Vicomte,  and  that  M.  le 


DE  CHAMPIONNET  PLAYS  THE  MAN     193 

Comte  d'AnquItal  unwittingly  killed  Silvain  instead 
of  you.  I  wish  he  had  made  no  such  mistake  ;  it 
was  you  who  most  deserved  death." 

I  bowed  my  head. 

"And  what  of  the  letters?"  she  asked.  ''  Have 
you  not  given  them  to  the  Regent  ?  " 

"  No,  Mademoiselle." 

"  Blood  of  the  Saints  !  "  cried  Dubois.  ''  Are  they, 
then,  in  your  possession  ?  " 

"Yes,  M.  I'Abbe,"  I  answered;  and  pulling  out 
the  little  packet  from  my  breast,  I  held  it  to  his  gaze 
and  to  the  gaze  of  the  Duchesse  and  M.  le  Due 
d'Orleans.  Their  amazement  was  something  inde- 
scribable. Dubois  made  a  snatch  at  the  letters,  and 
was  thrust  reeling  aside :  Monseigneur  caught  the 
fierce  flash  of  my  eye,  and  refrained  from  an  ad- 
vance ;  and  Madame,  with  an  emotional  exuberance 
which  startled  me,  rose  from  her  seat,  and,  falling  on 
her  knees,  pressed  her  pretty  lips  to  my  hand. 

"  Audran  !  "  she  said,  "  you  have  triumphed — you 
have  won  them  after  all.  Give  them  to  me,  my 
love,  my  king !  " 

I  looked  down  on  her  and  smiled. 

"Madame,  they  are  not  mine  to  give  1  " 

"  Not  yours  ?  "  she  cried.     "  Not  yours  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded  the  Regent. 

"Monsieur     is     playing    the    fox!"    murmured 
Dubois,  and  I  saw  that  Aurelie  was  watching  me 
like  a  woman  in  a  dream. 
13 


194     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  Why  prolong  my  torture,  M,  de  Championnet  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  Yield  the  letters  to  Monseigneur  or 
the  Duchesse,  and  then  your  work  will  be  done. 
You  will  receive  your  blood-money,  and  be  satisfied 
— you  will  also,  I  daresay,  receive  Madame's  caress, 
and  win  a  place  amid  her  many  loves." 

"  Mademoiselle  !  "  exclaimed  the  Duchesse,  spring- 
ing to  her  feet.  "  Mort  Christ,  you  shall  pay  for 
this  !  "  But  Aurelie's  only  answer  was  to  turn  her 
back  upon  the  daughter  of  the  Regent  of  France, 
and  then,  before  ever  I  could  avoid  her  embrace, 
Madame  had  flung  her  arms  around  my  neck  and 
was  hanging  to  my  breast.  But  I  saw  the  flash  of 
malice  in  her  splendid  eyes — I  sav^  the  glance  of 
supreme  triumph  that  she  cast  towards  Mademoi- 
selle, and  in  a  moment  I  knew  the  gay  Duchesse 
was  spinning  around  me  the  coils  of  her  inimitable 
wiles  in  a  desperate  attempt  to  madden  Aurelie  de 
Cheverny,  and  to  draw  me  back  to  my  old  allegiance 
to  herself. 

Yes,  Madame  was  an  extraordinary  woman,  and 
the  closer  she  clung  to  me  the  nearer  her  fingers 
were  creeping  to  the  letters  of  conspiracy  which,  up 
to  the  present,  I  had  warily  held  out  of  her  reach. 

Aurelie  had  turned  again  to  watch  us,  Dubois 
stood  with  his  back  to  the  door,  and  M.  le  Due  v/as 
content  to  await  the  issue  of  Madame's  diplomacy. 
But  it  was  Mademoiselle,  and  not  the  Duchesse,  who 
hastened  the  end. 


DE  CHAMPIONNET  PLAYS  THE  MAN     195 

"So  it  was  you  who  tempted  M.  le  Vicomte  to 
betray  us  !  "  she  cried. 

Madame's  great  eyes  opened  lazily. 

*' I,  Mademoiselle? "  she  replied,  attempting  to 
draw  my  face  down  to  hers.  "And  why  not?  I 
have  promised  to  become  the  wife  of  M.  de  Cham- 
pionnet." 

I  tore  her  white  arms  from  my  neck  and  thrust 
her  away  from  me. 

"  It  is  a  lie  !  "  I  cried.  "  I  swear  it,  by  God  and 
His  Holy  Mother  !  " 

The  salon  grew  so  still  that  there  was  no  sound  to 
be  heard  but  the  flames  of  the  fire,  which  leapt  up- 
ward with  a  noise  like  the  loud  beating  of  many 
hearts,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  great  calm  I  dropped 
on  my  knee  and  stretched  out  the  letters  to  Made- 
moiselle Aurelie. 

"  Take  them  back  !  "  I  said  ;  and  m)^  voice  was 
as  hoarse  as  that  of  a  crow.  "  Take  them  back,  and 
forget  me.  Mademoiselle !  This  is  all  I  ask.  I  was 
strong  in  temptation  ;  but  I  am  stronger  in  my  re- 
morse— and  if  death  will  pay  the  forfeit,  then  I  am 
ready  to  die?  " 

I  do  not  think  Aurelie  heard  my  last  words,  but 
with  a  low,  throbbing  cry  she  snatched  the  letters 
from  my  hand,  and  tearing  through  the  seals,  began 
to  throw  them  one  by  one  into  the  fire. 

"  Stop  her,  Dubois !  quick,  quick,  fool  of  an 
Abb^ !  "  cried  the   Regent,  but  I  whipped  out  my 


196      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

sword  on  the  instant  and  faced  them  both.  Mon- 
selgneur's  blade  was  already  bare,  and  he  came  at 
me  with  a  succession  of  thrusts  which  I  foiled  in  my 
easiest  manner,  and  Dubois,  making  a  rush  upon 
Mademoiselle,  received  a  blow  from  my  foot  that 
sent  him  rolling  towards  Madame  de  Berri ;  but  when 
the  Duchesse  herself  passionately  leapt  forward, 
I  was  forced  to  lower  my  point  that  it  might  not 
stain  her  white  bosom  with  her  blood.  And  Sang 
Dieu,  to  hear  Madame  swear  !  I  snatched  at  her 
arm,  but  she  swept  free,  and  sprang  like  a  beautiful 
tigress  upon  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny. 

Too  late  !  Aurelie  had  flung  the  last  letter  to  the 
thirsty  flames,  and  all  Madame  could  do  in  her  in- 
tense fury  was  to  stamp  her  little  foot,  and  then 
before  one  might  guess  her  intention  she  struck 
Mademoiselle  fiercely  on  the  face.  Her  rings  cut 
Aurelie's  cheek,  and  I  held  my  breath,  anticipating 
such  a  scene  as  had  never  before  stirred  the  chateau  ; 
but  instead  of  bursting  into  a  maddening  torrent  of 
fury.  Mademoiselle  calmly  wiped  away  the  blood, 
her  eyes  hard  and  bright  as  diamonds,  and  catching 
Madame's  wTist,  drew  her  close  and  whispered  in  her 
ear. 

The  Duchesse  gave  a  light  ringing  laugh,  and  I 
knew  something  great  was  going  to  happen,  for  there 
is  generally  the  devil  to  pay  when  two  such  women 
as  Madame  la  Duchesse  and  Aurelie  de  Cheverny 
throw  down  the  challenge. 


DE  CHAMPIONNET  PLAYS  THE  MAN     197 

With  superb  hauteur,  Madame  de  Berri  quitted 
the  salon,  scarce  deigning  to  flash  me  a  look,  and 
Monseigneur,  sheathing  his  rapier,  prepared  to  follow 
her.  He  was  quivering  with  passion,  and  I  knew 
that  this  burning  of  the  Cardinal's  letters  had  roused 
him  from  his  usual  geniality  into  something  like 
relentless  rage. 

"  To-morrow,  M.  le  Vicomte,  you  will  prepare  for 
an  incarceration  in  the  Chateau  Roxane !  "  he  said, 
with  a  savage  glance  at  me. 

I  bowed  my  head,  and  Dubois,  standing  on  tiptoe, 
began  to  whisper  fresh  devilry  into  his  ear.  Peste  ! 
how  I  loathed  the  wretch  ! 

M.  le  Due  smiled. 

*' M.  I'Abbe  is  right,"  he  said.  ''You  deserve 
nothing  better  than  the  Frog  dungeon,  M.  de  Cham- 
pionnet." 

I  could  scarcely  repress  a  shudder. 

"The  Frog  dungeon,  Monseigneur?"  I  cried. 
"  Mon  Dieu,  anything  but  that  !  " 

"  You  have  played  me  false,  and  shall  pay  my 
price,"  he  returned  ;  "  and,  mark  you,  Monsieur,  I 
mean  to  make  you  die  the  death  of  a  traitor  to  his 
country  and  his  word  I  " 

"  Better  that  than  a  traitor  to  my  heart !  "  I  bit- 
terly exclaimed,  and  M.  le  Due  laughed  low. 

*'  Of  what  sanctity  is  the  heart  of  Audran  de 
Champlonnet  ?  "  he  said.  ''  Vicomte,  I  will  waste 
no  more  words  on  you.     Retire  to  your  chamber 


198      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

within  an  hour,  and  consider  yourself  on  parole 
until  a  file  of  soldiers  appears  to  escort  you  to  the 
Chateau  Sainte  Roxane.  And  when  next  you  em- 
bark on  an  emprise,  Monsieur,  it  will  be  towards 
Purgatory,  so  prepare  yourself  for  that  !  " 

He  went  out,  followed  by  the  Abbe,  the  door 
banged,  and  I  was  left  alone  with  Madem.oiselle 
Aurelie.  On  the  broad  terrace  lay  the  dead  bodies 
of  Silvain  and  of  M.  le  Comte  d'Anquital,  and  I 
could  hear  the  whisperings  of  the  wind  among  the 
trees  which  fringed  the  parterre,  as  though  it  had 
come  to  sing  to  them  a  song  of  death. 

It  is  ever  thus  :  he  who  would  live  must  die,  and 
he  who  would  die  must  live  to  sufTer ;  and  life,  at 
the  best,  is  but  the  veriest  lottery.  So  'tis  well  to 
be  gay  at  all  times ;  but  if  you  cannot  be  gay,  be 
strong ;  and  if  you  cannot  be  strong,  pray  that  a 
woman  may  fetch  some  light  to  your  eyes  and  some 
fire  to  your  soul,  for  there  is  no  buckler  in  the  world 
like  a  woman's  love  ! 


CHAPTER   XIX 

LOVE    OR  HONOUR 

*'  M.  LE  ViCOMTE  is  silent,"  said  Aurelie ;  and 
my  first  impulse  was  to  cover  my  face  with  my 
hands.  I  feared  a  repetition  of  her  bitter  reproach, 
and,  by  my  soul's  salvation,  I  would  rather  have 
blown  out  my  brains  than  have  been  forced  to 
endure  another  lash  of  her  scorn  ;  but  when  after  a 
time  I  took  courage  and  stole  a  glance  across  the 
salon,  there  was  Mademoiselle  gazing  at  me  with 
the  saddest  and  most  'witching  smile  that  ever 
shone  on  woman's  face. 

She  was  paler  even  than  I,  and  I  saw  that  the 
hem  of  her  frock  was  crimsoned  here  and  there 
where  it  had  swept  along  the  terrace  over  Silvain's 
running  blood.  The  lacqueys  were  removing  the 
bodies,  for  I  could  hear  the  shufifiing  of  their  feet, 
and  we  both  stood  listening  until  the  tramp,  tramp 
had  died  away. 

M.  le    Due  d'Orleans   had    given    me   an   hour's 

grace,  and  I  meant  to  spend  it  in  making  my  peace 

with  Aurelie  before   I  said  farewell  to  her  for  ever. 

More  than  once   I  tried  to  begin,  but  my  tongue 

199 


200     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

was  tied,  and  I  could  not  speak.  The  salon  stifled 
me  ;  but  at  last  my  heart  found  words,  and  I  poured 
out  my  confession  like  a  torrent  to  Mademoiselle, 
who  stood  all  the  time  leaning  motionless  against 
the  low  massive  mantel,  and  two  great  candles  in 
silver  sconces  shed  a  red  light  o'er  her  face  and 
shoulders.  Her  eyes  were  incomparable — some- 
times they  would  brighten,  sometimes  they  would 
flash,  and  once  I  saw  the  tears  sparkling  like  little 
jets  of  crystal  on  her  lashes.  There  were  moments 
when  I  thought  she  trembled,  and  grew  whiter  even 
than  snow ;  but  she  stayed  mute  until  I  had  told 
my  tale  from  my  interview  with  Monseigneur  at  the 
Luxembourg  up  to  the  hour  of  the  tragedy  on  the 
terrace,  withholding  only  the  incident  of  my  keep- 
ing her  from  the  chamber  while  M.  le  Chevalier 
drew  his  last  breath.  No  ;  I  had  felt  no  power  to 
lay  that  shameful  act  before  her  judgment.  I  kept 
that  crowning  sin  deep  in  the  depths  of  my  soul, 
lest  she  should  call  on  God  to  curse  me. 

Many  were  the  nights  I  had  waked  with  a  start, 
thinking  I  heard  her  voice  cursing  my  name,  and 
sleep  was  gone  from  me  until  the  morn  ;  and  even 
now  in  my  dreams  I  sometimes  hear  that  cry. 
Some  day  God  may  let  me  forget ;  but  the  least 
thing  a  scoundrel  can  do  is  to  pay  for  his  iniquity ; 
and  though  I  was  never  the  man  to  sing  "  Gloria  in 
excelsis "  when  fate  ran  hard  against  me,  or  wel- 
come the  devil's  own  luck  with  a  loud  "  Te  Deum," 


LOVE  OR  HONOUR  201 

I  had  always  received  life's  ironies  with  a  gay  sang- 
froid which  had  invariably  braced  me  to  carry  my 
cross  with  a  shrug  and  a  laugh.  But  to-night,  in 
Mademoiselle's  presence,  I  was  no  better  than  a 
coward. 

Piece  by  piece  I  had  unfolded  my  baseness  and 
dishonour,  striving  neither  to  hide  my  rascality,  nor 
to  gloss  over  my  shame,  and  Aurelie  heard  me 
without  flinching  to  the  end. 

"Is  that  all?"  she  asked,  her  eyes  half  closed; 
and  then  of  a  sudden  I  resolved  to  drain  my  cup  to 
the  dregs. 

''  No,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said  ;  "  there  is  one  thing 
more.  M.  le  Chevalier  did  not  die  at  my  hands, 
but  I  was  in  the  chamber  all  the  while.  I  locked 
the  door  lest  you  should  enter,  and  stayed  by  the 
bed  until  his  life  had  ebbed.  Yes,  I  was  there  while 
he  called  your  name  ;  I  was  there  when  you  an- 
swered him,  and  beat  the  door  with  your  hands ;  I 
was  there  while  he  cursed  me,  and  while  you  cried, 
'Open  the  door,  Silvain  ! '  and  called  me  a  devil. 
Mademoiselle,  he  had  discovered  that  I  was  not 
Silvain  de  Cheverny,  and  rather  than  let  him  shout 
the  truth  into  your  ears,  I  was  ready  to  sacrifice  all 
the  peace  which  your  presence  might  have  brought 
him  while  he  lay  in  extremis,  to  my  own  unpardon- 
able villainy.  So  I  stayed  there  till  the  end,  and 
then  escaped  by  the  lattice  before  the  Marquis  and 
your   lacqueys    broke    in  the    door,  to    find    M,  le 


202      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

Chevalier  had  gasped  his  last  breath.  Whether 
you  believed  all  my  lies  when  I  encountered  you 
afterwards  in  the  salon,  I  cannot  say,  but  now  you 
know  how  base  a  rascal  T  have  been,  and  can  judge 
me  from  my  own  condemnation.  I  cannot  hope 
you  will  forgive  ;  I  cannot  hope  you  will  forget, 
though  I  would  give  my  body  and  soul  for  one 
single  word  of  pity  or  of  pardon !  Mademoi- 
selle .  .  ." 

My  voice  was  a  prayer.  Aurelie's  head  was 
turned  aside,  and  her  face  w^as  hidden  from  me,  but 
long  ere  she  spoke  I  knew  my  fate  would  be  in 
accordance  with  my  deserts.  Her  answer  came  in  a 
whisper — so  sharp  and  intense  that  the  sweat  broke 
out  on  my  brow,  and  I — yes,  even  I,  de  Champion- 
net,  the  duellist  and  the  scoundrel,  trembled  as 
though  I  were  standing  before  my  God  at  the  last 
Great  Day. 

"  I  can  never  forget ;  I  can  never  forgive.  I  have 
neither  pardon  nor  pity.  Monsieur,  for  Christ's 
sake  leave  me,  that  I  may  see  you  no  more !  " 

I  stood  in  silence,  her  clear  words  cutting  into  my 
heart  like  a  sword ;  then  Mademoiselle  suddenly 
swayed,  lost  her  hold  on  the  mantel,  and  sunk  down 
in  a  swoon  before  ever  I  could  spring  forward  to 
catch  her  in  my  arms.  I  stooped,  pressed  my  cold 
lips  to  her  little  clenched  hand,  and,  neither  heeding 
nor  caring  whither  I  went,  thrust  open  a  heavy  lat- 
tice and  stepped  out  upon  the  terrace. 


LOVE  OR  HONOUR  203 

Snow  was  again  falling,  and  the  magnificent  facade 
of  the  chateau  was  already  plastered  by  the  thick 
flakes  that  shot  like  feathery  arrows  through  the 
blackness  of  the  night  ;  but  I  went  down  into  the 
parterre  like  a  man  in  a  dream,  and  wandered  to 
and  fro  amid  the  naked  trees  and  the  beds  which  in 
springtime  were  bright  with  many  flowers. 

My  heart  was  dead.  Mademoiselle  Aurelie  had 
given  me  my  coup  de  grace,  and  the  reckless  joy  of 
life,  with  its  old  charm  of  wine  and  cards,  war  and 
women,  was  gone  from  me  for  ever.  Had  God 
smitten  me  blind  in  the  midst  of  my  despair,  I  would 
not  have  cared  a  curse,— had  He  struck  me  dead,  I 
would  have  blessed  Him  ;  but  it  is  man's  unwritten 
fate  that  he  shall  pay  through  the  heart  for  the  sins 
of  his  head  and  hand. 

Another  day,  and  I  should  be  in  the  Chateau 
Sainte  Roxane  ;  but  what  would  become  of  Made- 
moiselle ?  Ah,  the  thought  that  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans 
might  yet  draw  a  net  around  her  feet  stung  me 
again.  I  saw  her  accompanying  him  to  the  Palais- 
Royal,  or  Versailles.  I  pictured  her  surrounded  by 
all  the  brilliance  and  vice  of  Paris,  to  be  drawn  at 
last  into  the  inevitable  whirlpool ;  and  though  the 
snow  came  tumbling  down  in  great  white  clouds,  and 
spread  like  a  shroud  over  the  chateau  and  the  valley 
below,  I  continued  to  pace  the  parterre  with  a  brain 
and  heart  of  fire.  Aurelie  had  driven  me  out  of  her 
presence,  and  I  could  not  go  back,  so  I  stayed  in  the 


204     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

silent  gardens  until  my  hour  of  grace  was  nearly 
gone. 

*'  M.  de  Championnet !  " 

I  started,  and  then  the  whisper  came  again — a 
little  louder,  a  little  more  distinct — and  I  saw  a 
shadowy  figure  flit  out  from  a  double  fringe  of  al- 
mond-trees that  bordered  the  parterre. 

"  M.  de  Championnet !  " 

"Who  is  there?"  I  answered,  and  my  teeth 
were  clashing  like  castanets. 

"  It  is  I — Aurelie  de  Cheverney." 

''  Mon  Grand  Dieu  !  "  I  gasped,  and  then,  'fore 
ever  I  could  catch  my  breath,  Mademoiselle's  fingers 
were  sinking  deeply  into  my  soft,  wet  sleeve. 

"  M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  whispered,  "  I  awoke  from 
my  swoon,  and  I  was  alone.  I  have  come  to  you 
again  ;  "  and  I  swear  I  cannot  say  how  it  happened, 
but  of  a  sudden  her  hands  slid  into  mine,  and  though 
the  snow  fell  with  pitiless  persistency  through  the 
dark  vault  of  night,  I  seemed  to  see  her  eyes  shining 
up  at  me  as  if  their  light  could  never  fade. 

"  Mademoiselle,  you  have  no  business  here,"  I 
murmured.  ''You  will  catch  your  death  of  chill, 
and,  by  Saint  Aignan,  you  wear  neither  cloak  nor 
hat." 

''  It  does  not  matter.  My  heart  is  warm,"  she 
replied.     "  Why  did  you  leave  me,  Monsieur  ?  " 

"  I  was  scorned,  Mademoiselle,  and  you  drove  me 
from  your  sight." 


LOVE  OR  HONOUR  205 

*'  How  little  you  understand  women,"  she  an- 
swered. 

''  They  are  sometimes  beyond  comprehension,"  I 
said.     "  Have  you  come  to  wound  me  afresh  ?  " 

^'  No,"  she  murmured.  "  When  my  strength  re- 
turned and  I  found  you  had  left  the  salon,  I  thought 
you  had  flown  from  the  chateau,  and  from  me." 

*'  I  should  have  done  so,  Mademoiselle,  were  I 
not  a  prisoner." 

''  I  haunted  the  terrace  time  after  time,  and  I 
think  I  should  have  killed  myself,  M.  le  Vicomte, 
had  I  failed  to  find  you." 

''Why?"  I  asked,  with  my  heart  at  a  standstill. 

''  Because  you  have  been  my  friend,  as  well  as  my 
enemy ;  and  a  faithful  friend,  Monsieur,  is  the 
rarest  gift  in  the  world." 

"You  call  me  friend!"  I  exclaimed.  "You, 
Mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  "  she  said.     "  Why  not,  M.  le  Vicomte  ?  " 

"  And  trust  me  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Have  I  not  already  proved  my  faith  ?  " 

"  But  I  deceived  you." 

"  Yes,"  she  said. 

"  And  lied  to  you." 

"  Many  times,"  she  replied. 

"  And  played  the  rascal  to  the  very  hilt  of  ini- 
quity." 

"  For  the  sake  of  the  Duchesse  !  "  said  Mademoi- 
selle, "  and  I  wish  you  joy  of  her.  Monsieur  !  " 


2o6     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

I  was  dumb.  How  full  of  the  devil's  own  shrewd- 
ness are  women  !  Aurelie  had  seen  through  me  at 
last,  and  my  heart  was  laid  bare.  ''  For  the  sake  of 
the  Duchesse  !  "  Ma  foi  !  she  was  right,  and  from 
beginning  to  end  Madame  de  Berri  was  answerable 
for  the  whole  counterplot  which  had  brought  me  to 
act  the  scoundrel's  part  with  such  conspicuous  ability 
and  extraordinary  results.  She  had  pushed  me  into 
the  fire,  and  now  would  laugh  to  watch  me  burn, 
while  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny  helped  to  pay  the 
piper.  Aurelie's  hands  still  lay  in  mine,  and  the 
snow  was  growing  so  thick  that  I  would  have  given 
worlds  to  make  her  take  shelter  on  my  breast.  We 
were  both  clad  in  white  from  head  to  foot  ;  but 
through  the  flakes  I  could  see  her  eyes  gleaming 
like  diamonds,  and  a  prettier  sight  was  never  seen 
out  of  Heaven. 

''  Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "  you  told  me  you  could 
never  forgive  and  forget  what  I  had  done — what  I 
had  been.  You  could  not  even  pity  me.  Yet  you 
have  come  and  put  your  hands  in  mine.  Is  it  be- 
cause I  am  pardoned  at  last?  " 

But  Aurelie  would  make  no  answer,  and  I  knew 
that  she  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

''  My  time  is  short,"  I  urged,  ''  and  we  shall  never 
meet  again." 

Mademoiselle's  fingers  tightened  on  my  hands. 

"  You  will  not  leave  me  ?  "  she  whispered.  ''  Mon- 
sieur, stay  !  "  and  I  knew  at  last  that  although  she 


LOVE  OR  HONOUR  207 

might  not  ever  forget  my  past,  she  must,  in  God's 
own  day,  forgive.  She  had  flown  to  me  from  the 
salon  of  her  own  free  will.  She  had  prayed  me  to 
remain  at  her  side  ;  but  Fate,  inexorable  as  Death, 
called  me  back  again  from  hope,  and  life,  and  the 
promise  of  love  to  the  dungeons  of  the  Chateau 
Sainte  Roxane.  In  a  few  moments  the  clock  of  the 
old  tower  would  strike,  and  afterwards  would  fall 
the  shadow.     So  I  steeled  myself  for  the  end. 

"  'Tis  a  night  of  farewell.  Mademoiselle,"  I  said, 
and,  loosening  my  hands,  I  knelt  all  at  once  to  kiss 
her  feet.  They  were  sunk  deep  in  the  snow,  but  I 
thought  it  no  humility  to  search  for  them  with  my 
cold  lips.  I  could  hear  Aurelie's  sharp  breathing, 
and  that  and  the  quick  shivering  of  the  loaded  trees 
were  the  only  sounds  which  cut  the  strained,  tense 
stillness  of  the  night.  Then  I  rose  again,  and  Ma- 
demoiselle, gazing  at  me  with  the  snow  beating 
down  upon  her  face,  tossed  back  her  little  head 
with  the  most  inimitable  charm,  to  drink  from  my 
eyes  a  love  that  was  infinite.  Her  frock  was  soaked 
through  and  through,  and  the  snow  upon  her  neck 
was  melting  into  a  million  crystals,  which  ran  over 
her  warm  bosom  like  live  gems.  Her  hair  was  as 
though  'twere  sprinkled  with  diamonds,  and  had  I 
dared  I  would  have  scattered  them  with  my  lips 
and  crushed  her  lithe  sparkling  body  in  my  arms  ; 
but  between  us  lay  the  sword  of  Death,  and  I  bent 
to  kiss  her  hands  for  the  last  time,  and  to  murmur  a 


2o8      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

soft  farewell.  Ah,  the  bitterness  of  that  parting  ! 
I  do  not  think  Mademoiselle  could  have  listened  to 
M.  le  Due's  threats  when  he  doomed  me  to  the 
Frog  dungeon  of  the  Chateau  Sainte  Roxane.  She 
could  not  have  heeded  the  dread  significance  of  my 
incarceration,  for  when  I  turned  to  leave  her  she 
again  besought  me  with  tears  to  stay. 

''  Nay,  Mademoiselle,  I  must  go,"  I  answered. 

"  Whither,  M.  le  Vicomte?"  she  said,  in  a  voice 
that  was  almost  inaudible. 

**  To  the  Chateau  Sainte  Roxane,"  I  replied,  and 
I  heard  her  sob  twice  or  thrice  with  an  intensity 
which  maddened  me. 

**  You  are  going  to  give  your  life  for  my  sake, 
and  for  the  sake  of  the  Cardinal's  letters,"  she 
panted.  "  You  have  saved  Madame  la  Duchessedu 
Maine  and  the  rest  of  us  poor  foolish  intriguing 
women,  by  letting  me  burn  those  papers  of  con- 
spiracy. Even  the  Regent  of  France  cannot  throw 
us  into  the  Bastille  without  some  proof  of  our  guilt ; 
but  you.  Monsieur,  are  paying  for  all — you  are  on 
your  way  towards  Death,  and  I  have  sent  you  there. 
Mother  of  Christ,  have  mercy,  have  mercy  !  M.  le 
Vicomte,  you  shall  not  go  the  Chateau  Sainte 
Roxane,  I  will  give  myself  into  the  hands  of  M.  le 
Due  d'Orleans  ;  I  will  suffer  as  I  deserve,  and 
you  shall  help  me  to  be  strong.  Come,  come, 
come  !  " 

She  caught   at  my  fingers  and  tried  to  drag  me 


LOVE  OR  HONOUR  209 

towards  the  salon,  shaking  the  snow  in  showers 
from  her  shoulders  in  the  violence  of  her  passion  ; 
but  I  stood  like  a  rock  until,  with  a  cry,  she  dropped 
at  my  feet  and  flung  her  arms  around  my  knees. 

"  You  shall  not  die  for  me  !  "  she  gasped.  *' You 
shall  not  die  !  Oh,  mon  Dieu,  will  nothing  make 
you  speak  ?  " 

"  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny,"  I  said,  "  if  I  turned 
from  the  dungeons  of  the  Chateau  Sainte  Roxane 
— if  I  faltered  in  giving  my  worthless  life  to  save 
those  whom  I  so  nearly  betrayed — if  I  stamped  my 
foot  upon  the  last  shred  of  honour  that  clings  to 
the  name  of  de  Championnet,  I  should  deserve  to 
be  spat  upon  by  God  and  all  His  angels  !  Let  me 
go,  and   may  Heaven  smile  on  3^ou,  Mademoiselle." 

My  words  ended  in  a  whisper,  and  as  I  stooped  to 
loosen  Aurelie's  arms  the  clock  commenced  to  strike 
my  hour  of  doom.  Bending  my  head,  I  breathed  a 
kiss  upon  her  hair,  freed  my  knees  from  her  em- 
brace, and  staggered  towards  the  terrace  like  a  man 
grown  old  and  grey.  Ere  I  entered  the  salon,  I 
looked  back,  and  saw  in  the  midst  of  the  whirling 
snow  that  swept  down  upon  the  parterre,  a  little 
white  figure  kneeling  alone. 
14 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   DUCHESSE   WINS 

Seven  hours  later,  when  I  thrust  open  my  cham- 
ber window,  the  snow  had  ceased,  and  there  was  a 
bright  starry  sky,  extraordinarily  brilliant  and  clear, 
with  a  dazzling  glare  of  moonlight  on  the  terrace 
and  the  parterre.  The  little  berceaux  were  glitter- 
ing like  the  frosted  domes  of  minarets,  and  away 
beyond  the  grounds  of  the  chateau  slept  the  white 
valley  and  the  pretty  village  of  Cheverny,  with  the 
tall  spire  of  the  church  standing  like  God's  sentinel 
in  its  midst. 

My  eyes  had  not  closed  since  I  parted  from  Ma- 
demoiselle Aurelie,  and  I  only  awaited  the  dawn 
that  I  might  wend  my  way  to  Sainte  Roxane  with 
an  escort  of  guards.  I  knew  M.  le  Due  had  sent  a 
groom  to  Paris  immediately  on  my  surrender  ;  and 
when  Dubois,  a  few  minutes  after  I  retired  to  my 
room,  came  to  wish  me  a  mocking  good-night,  he 
took  care  that  I  should  not  escape  by  locking  the 
strong  door  from  without. 

I  heard  the  wretch  trip  down  the  stair,  jangling 
the  keys  and  humming  a  scandalous  chansonette. 

2IO 


THE  DUCHESSE  WINS  211 

How  little  he  trusted  me  !  He  had  even  gone  off 
with  my  sword,  thinking  that  although  I  was  no 
better  than  a  rogue,  and  no  worse  than  a  rascal,  I 
might  make  a  swift  resolve  and  cut  the  string  of  my 
own  life.  Yes,  M.  I'Abbe  was  determined  that  the 
Chateau  Sainte  Roxane  should  not  be  cheated  of  its 
prey. 

I  had  been  tramping  my  chamber  with  a  flaming 
heart  hour  after  hour,  full  of  mad  thoughts  of  Aure- 
lie,  and  the  cool  gush  of  icy  wind  which  poured 
through  the  open  lattice  did  but  wake  in  my  brain 
a  fresh  fever  of  remorse.  Once  more  I  cursed  the 
day  I  first  saw  Madame  de  Berri — once  more  I 
cursed  my  rash  vow  in  the  card-chamber  of  the 
Luxembourg  ;  but  of  what  use  were  regrets  ?  I  had 
brought  down  the  storm  of  misery  upon  Mademoi- 
selle's head,  and  all  the  self-sacrifice  in  the  world 
could  never  atone  for  my  sin. 

I  thrust  my  grey  face  out  of  the  window  and 
gazed  down  at  the  terrace.  Just  underneath  me  M. 
le  Comte  d'Anquital  and  Silvain  de  Cheverny  had 
killed  one  another,  and  I  smiled  bitterly  to  think 
how  well  my  magnificent  diplomacy  would  have 
worked  out  but  for  my  irresistible  love  of  Mademoi- 
selle Aur^lie.  M.  le  Due  would  have  held  the  se- 
crets, Alberoni  been  duped  and  laughed  at  by  all 
Europe,  the  dangerous  plot  against  the  Regency 
come  to  an  inglorious  end,  and  the  conspirators 
would   lie  at   the  mercy  of   Monseigneur  and   the 


212      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

Abbe  Dubois,  while  I  might  have  wedded  Madame 
la  Duchesse  de  Berri,  and  risen  in  time  to  rule 
France.  A  little  more  bloodshed — a  little  more  un- 
scrupulous diplomacy,  and  then  .  .  . 

But  the  night  was  cold,  and  I  was  closing  the 
lattice  with  a  clash  when  a  woman's  shadow  was 
tlfrown  strong  upon  the  terrace,  and,  looking  down,  I 
saw  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny  steal  out  from 
the  chateau.  *'  Heavens !  "  I  murmured.  "  Do  I 
dream  ?  " 

The  door  opened  once  more,  and  a  second  shadow 
darkened  the  snow.  I  could  scarcely  believe  my 
eyes — it  was  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri,  holding 
something  that  glittered  in  her  hand.  She  flung  off 
her  furs — Mademoiselle  let  the  cloak  drop  softly  from 
her  shoulders,  and  in  an  instant  I  knew  that  a  duel 
was  the  outcome  of  their  challenge  in  the  salon,  for 
each  held  a  rapier. 

The  moonlight  was  pale  but  fierce  as  it  struck 
upon  the  chateau,  the  parterre,  and  the  long,  glis- 
tening terrace,  and  Madame's  bosom  and  arms 
gleamed  white  as  the  snow.  Aurelie  too,  had  bared 
her  shoulders,  and  nothing  but  a  drooping  coil  of 
lace  floated  from  her  neck  to  shield  her  breast  from 
the  sharp  and  biting  wind.  Ah,  these  were  women 
worth  the  name ! 

But  Mort  Christ !  how  my  heart  drummed  when 
Aurelie  fell  on  guard,  and  Madame  sent  her  blade 
straight   at  her  bosom.     Parried  !     Yes,  if  the  old 


THE  DUCHESSE  WINS  213 

Chevalier  had  been  her  maitre  d'armes,  he  had 
taught  her  how  to  fence  ;  and  even  so  long  ago  as 
the  days  when  I  walked  with  the  Duchesse  in  the 
gardens  of  Versailles  I  had  heard  of  Madame's  pro- 
ficiency. 

They  were  a  pair  well  matched,  and  it  thrilled  me 
when  first  one,  and  then  the  other,  lunged  and  lunged 
until  the  sparks  showered  extremely  prettily  from 
their  tinkling  blades. 

Once  I  heard  Madame  de  Berri  give  a  little  wild, 
stifled  cry,  and  prayed  that  Mademoiselle  had 
drawn  first  blood  ;  but  when,  a  moment  later,  the 
Duchesse  leapt  in  with  the  litheness  of  a  panther 
and  nearly  pierced  Aurelie's  side,  my  suspense  grew 
maddening,  and  could  I  have  squeezed  my  body 
through  the  narrow  windovv^,  I  must  have  dropped 
down  and  parted  them. 

"■  Is  Mademoiselle  satisfied  ?  "  panted  Madame  de 
Berri. 

"  I  will  fight  you  till  my  last  breath  !  "  gasped 
Aurelie,  and  with  inimitable  swiftness  Madame  flev»- 
at  her  again,  but  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny  made 
a  beautiful  rally,  feinted  once  or  twice,  and  then 
slipped  her  blade  'neath  Madame  de  Berri's.  There 
was  a  flash  of  fire — a  gay,  rasping  sound  that  set 
one's  teeth  on  edge,  and  I  saw  the  sword  of  the 
Duchesse  spin  high  in  the  air  like  a  bright  wheel  of 
light,  and  tinkle  down  at  her  feet. 

Madame  was  disarmed ! 


214     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

Aurelie  stood  with  the  point  of  her  rapier  resting 
on  the  snow,  and  a  strip  of  torn  lace  from  her  bosom 
fluttering  away  on  the  icy  breath  of  night.  It  was 
a  scene  of  exquisite  romance.  The  stars  strewed 
the  violet  heavens  like  ten  million  diamonds,  the 
great  moon  blazing  in  their  midst,  while  forest,  hill, 
and  vale  shone  'neath  her  glare  with  a  soft  brilliance 
indescribable.  The  wind  sung  low  among  the  trees, 
and  now  and  then  a  shower  of  snow  would  spurt 
from  the  creaking  boughs  and  scatter  like  bright 
gems  upon  the  terrace,  where  here  and  there  Ma- 
dame's  and  Aur^lie's  shifting,  springing  little  feet 
had  drawn  dark  ribbons  as  they  fought. 

Had  Mademoiselle  glanced  up  she  might  have 
seen  my  face  at  the  window  ;  but  she  was  too  in- 
tent on  the  Duchesse  to  heed  aught  save  the  fact 
that  the  daughter  of  the  Regent  of  France  had 
stooped  to  pick  up  her  sword,  and  in  the  flash  of 
an  eye  they  had  re-engaged.  Three  times  Aurelie 
spared  Madame  when  she  might  have  run  her 
through,  and  then  to  my  intense  horror  I  saw  her 
deliberately  open  her  guard  and  allow  the  Duchesse 
to  lunge  with  devilish  swiftness  at  her  heart. 

My  eyes  seemed  full  of  fire — I  caught  the  gleam 
of  their  arms  and  bosoms — the  flash  of  Madame's 
rapier,  and  next  instant  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny 
lay  on  her  back  upon  the  terrace  with  a  quick  stream 
of  blood  from  her  side  darkening  the  snow. 

A  cry  sprang  from  my  lips  that  was  drowned  by 


THE  DUCHESSE  WINS  215 

the  scream  of  the  Duchesse,  and  I  saw  her  throw 
down  her  blade  and  race  into  the  salon.  I  shook 
the  strong  centre-bar  of  my  window  till  it  rattled, 
but  in  spite  of  my  mad  fury  it  held  fast,  and 
seemingly  'twas  hours  before  Madame  de  Berri 
reappeared  with  Madame  Rochette,  en  d^sha- 
bill6,  and  a  couple  of  half-dressed  lacqueys.  I 
watched  them  carry  Aurelie  into  the  chateau  ;  I 
heard  the  slam  of  the  lattice,  and  the  loud  tones  of 
Monseigneur  the  Regent  as  he  shouted  inquiries 
from  the  head  of  the  stair — the  babble  of  maids, 
and  the  thin,  incisive  voice  of  the  Abbe  Dubois, 
and  afterwards  the  steady  tread  of  men's  feet. 

They  were  bearing  Mademoiselle  to  her  cham- 
ber, and  when  the  day  dawned  and  M.  I'Abb^  broke 
in  upon  my  agony  to  tell  me  that  my  guards  had 
arrived,  I  was  also  informed  that  Aurelie  lay  in  the 
Shadow  of  Death. 

My  strength  fled  my  limbs,  and  I  think  even 
Dubois  was  awed  by  my  change  of  face,  for  with- 
out a  word  he  took  my  sleeve  and  led  me  slowly 
down  the  stair.  Not  a  sign  of  Madame  la  Duchesse 
or  the  Regent. 

In  the  courtyard,  drinking  hot  wine  and  surround- 
ed by  ten  or  a  dozen  troopers,  sat  Captain  d' Eglan- 
tine, whom  I  slightly  knew,  and  saluting  me  respect- 
fully, the  guards  brought  forward  one  of  Mademoi- 
selle de  Cheverny's  horses.  I  pulled  myself  to- 
gether lest  these  fellows  and  d' Eglantine  should  go 


2i6     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

back  to  Paris  and  say  that  Audran  de  Championnet 
had  turned  coward  in  the  hour  of  adversity,  mounted 
to  the  saddle,  and,  taking  a  long  look  at  the  old 
chateau,  clattered  out  of  the  yard  in  the  midst  of 
the  troopers,  and  passed  swiftly  down  the  white, 
powdery  road. 

The  hours  fled,  and  ere  grey  dusk  began  to  fall, 
leaving  the  Heavens  all  bloody  with  the  wintry 
even-glow,  we  saw  the  tall  battlements  and  gables 
of  the  Chateau  Sainte  Roxane  rising  black  and  grim 
against  the  sky. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

SAINTE     ROXANE 

"  I  AM  sorry  for  you,  M.  le  Vicomte,  but  Monsei- 
gneur  must  be  obeyed.     Au   revoir  till  the  morn  !  " 

With  the  Chatelain's  words  and  the  clang  of  the 
great  iron  door  ringing  in  my  ears  I  groped  my  way 
along  the  wet  walls  to  my  resting-place  in  the  Frog 
dungeon,  noting  with  surprise  that  the  floor  was 
free  of  water.  The  horrors  of  this  prison  had  been 
whispered  to  me  long  ago  by  a  friend  of  M.  le 
Comte  le  Lally,  who  came  out  from  it  a  madman  ; 
by  the  sister  of  Anselme  d'Hautfort,  who  was  found 
dead  with  a  hundred  rats  tearing  at  his  face  ;  by  an 
old  comrade-in-arms  of  the  Marquis  de  Pontolet, 
of  the  Gardes  Frangaises,  who  was  released  only  to 
leap  from  the  crenelated  walls  of  the  chateau  into 
the  Seine. 

Yes,  this  dungeon  had  as  black  a  history  as  any 
in  France,  and,  although  scarce  a  Parisian  dreamed 
that  it  was  still  in  use,  M.  TAbb^  Dubois  was  care- 
ful to  send  the  most  dangerous  or  the  most  hated 
of  his  enemies,  not  to  the  Bastille,  but   to  a  secret 

death   amid    the    agonising   terrors  of  this   devil's 

217 


2i8      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

paradise.  Its  Chatelain  was  M.  de  la  Valette,  a 
rascal  whose  life  Dubois  had  saved  to  make  him  the 
watch-dog  of  the  Chateau  ;  and  I  do  not  think  M. 
I'Abbe  could  have  chosen  a  better  man.  M.  de  la 
Valette  possessed  a  silky  voice  and  a  heart  of  stone  ; 
he  was  a  thief,  a  murderer,  an  assassin,  and  a  hypo- 
crite ;  he  would  smile  at  a  friend  and  stab  him  in 
the  back ;  he  would  lick  the  feet  of  his  worst  foe  to 
win  a  favour,  and  the  shrewd  Dubois  found  in  him 
a  minion  who  would  mete  out  to  the  prisoners  of 
the  Frog  dungeon  as  many  miseries  as  his  master 
would  pay  him  for. 

Captain  d'Eglantine  and  his  troopers  were  gone 
back  to  Paris,  and  save  for  the  Chatelain  and  a  few 
of  his  servants,  a  couple  of  gaolers  and  a  brace  of 
bloodhounds,  the  chateau  was  empty.  And  down  in 
the  Frog  dungeon  reigned  a  vast,  illimitable  stillness. 

Tliere  was  one  single  slit  through  which  a  ray 
of  sunlight,  no  bigger  than  a  hand,  might  steal  at 
times  into  the  black  gloom  'mid  which  I  was  to 
live ;  but  at  night,  with  foul  things  creeping  o'er 
one,  a  man  went  step  by  step  in  horror,  and  pres- 
ently would  shine  green  eyes,  growing  in  number 
as  the  moments  passed,  and  the  rats  would  come  to 
rustle  to  and  fro.  Frogs,  too,  leapt  from  their 
haunts  to  croak  around  me  as  I  sat  upon  the  block 
of  wood  which  served  for  bed  and  seat,  and  the  cold 
was  so  intense  that  long  icicles  here  and  there  hung 
from  the  dripping,  vaulted  roof. 


SAINTE  ROXANE  219 

My  brain  was  torn  betwixt  wild  thoughts  of  Ma- 
demoiselle de  Cheverny  and  the  ghastly  hatred  of 
my  prison.  I  heard  the  rats  race  in  scores  across 
the  dungeon,  screeching  as  they  ran.  Time  after 
time  my  hands  flew  to  my  face  or  neck  to  snatch 
away  and  crush  some  loathsome  thing,  and  more 
than  once  I  had  a  mind  to  dash  my  brains  out 
'gainst  the  wall. 

Colder  and  colder  grew  the  night  :  M.  de  la  Va- 
lette  had  not  even  offered  me  a  cloak,  and  at  last  I 
was  forced  to  tramp  up  and  down  lest  I  might  sink 
through  numbness  into  sleep.  Out  in  the  pure  snow 
I  could  have  died  with  a  will,  but  here,  with  the 
rats  feasting  on  my  body — bah  !  the  very  thought 
transfixed  me  with  a  terror  that  I  had  never  known 
before,  and  I  began  to  sing,  to  dance,  and  to  shout 
like  a  madman  in  the  vain  hope  of  scaring  them 
from  my  sight.  But  no,  their  green  eyes  would  re- 
appear until  I  could  count  them  by  hundreds,  and 
when  I  drove  them  away  they  would  come  back 
again,  bringing  others  in  their  train  to  rush  and 
squeal  and  scamper  round  my  feet. 

Towards  morn  the  wind  began  to  rise,  and  when 
a  gush  of  freezing  water  came  sousing  through  the 
window-slit  I  knew  that  my  dungeon  was  compassed 
about  by  the  Seine,  and  I  wondered  what  would 
happen  if  the  river  rose.  Already  it  seemed  as 
though  the  cell  was  deep  below  its  face,  for  again 
and  again  the  spray  swept  down  upon  me,  and  my 


220     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

feet,  when  I  set  them  to  the  ground,  were  wetted 
to  the  ankles. 

It  must  have  been  three  hours  after  dawn  before 
a  man  came  to  me  with  some  bread  and  wine,  and 
gazing  over  his  shoulder  was  M.  de  la  Valette,  a 
soft  smile  on  his  lips.  He  had  a  lanthorn  in  his 
hand,  and  flashed  it  full  upon  me. 

**  Bon  jour,  M.  le  Vicomte  !  "  he  cried. 

I  answered  him  not.  I  was  as  mad  and  savage  as 
a  wolf. 

''Bon  jour,  Monsieur  I  "  he  cried  again.  "How 
have  you  liked  your  night  in  the  Frog  dungeon? 
Ah  !  you  are  not  the  first  gay  gentleman  who  has 
died  here.  Others  greater  than  you,  Vicomte,  have 
passed  down  these  steps  before  my  eyes,  and  over 
each  I  have  murmured  the  same  requiem :  '  Sic 
transit  gloria  mundi !  '  Never  mind,  my  friend  ; 
what  you  have  lost  on  earth  you  may  gain  in  Para- 
dise !  Drink,  and  be  merry !  Renard,  give  M.  de 
Championnet  the  Beaune." 

The  man  offered  me  some  wine.  I  would  not 
touch  it,  so  he  set  the  pitcher  at  my  side  and  went 
away,  his  feet  squelching  in  the  water  that  washed 
about  the  cell.  I  watched  him  go  up  the  stair, 
leaving  M.  de  la  Valette  to  continue  his  pleasant- 
ries. 

''  M.  TAbbe  Dubois  has  got  his  knife  into  you, 
Monsieur!  "  he  said. 

''  Well  ?  "  I  snarled. 


SAINTE  ROXANE  221 

"  He  is  likely  to  keep  it  there,"  the  Chatelain 
rejoined. 

"  Let  him,"  I  answered,  throwing  myself  back  on 
the  seat.  ''  What  will  occur,  Monsieur,  if  the  river 
rises  ?  " 

"  You  will  drown  like  a  rat,"  he  laughed. 

*'  Houra  !"  I  said.  *'  May  it  rise  soon."  And  I 
saw  a  flash  of  admiration  spring  to  his  eyes. 

"  Sang  bleu !  you  have  a  spirit,  M.  le  Vicomte," 
he  returned.  "  I  wish  your  quarters  were  better ; 
but  Monseigneur  particularly  mentioned  the  Frog 
dungeon  in  his  lettre  de  cachet,  and  one  must  obey 
the  Regent  of  France — eh,  mon  ami  ?  " 

^'  Undoubtedly,"  I  said. 

*'  But  Dubois  is  the  Devil !  "  rattled  on  De  la 
Valette.  "  It  is  he  who  has  caused  you  to  be  thrown 
here." 

"  Oh  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  How  do  you  know  that, 
Monsieur?" 

The  Chatelain  smiled,  slammed  the  heavy  door, 
and  left  me  alone  to  my  wine  and  my  bread.  I 
drank  a  little  of  the  Beaune,  flung  myself  back  on  the 
seat,  and  for  the  first  time  since  entering  the  dun- 
geon, I  slept. 

Night  had  come  when  I  awoke  with  a  start  to 
feel  something  running  over  my  breast,  and  the 
instant  my  hand  touched  its  wet,  slimy  body,  a 
huge  river-rat  fastened  to  my  cheek.  I  tore  it  away 
with  a  shudder  and  a  blasphemy,  and,  leaping  up, 


222      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

recommenced  my  vigil,  splashing  to  and  fro  amid 
the  foul  slime  that  had  risen  from  the  dungeon  floor 
to  mingle  with  the  wash  of  the  Seine. 

Mon  Dieu,  the  horror  of  it  all ! — the  maddening 
loathsomeness  !  And  yet,  far  down  in  my  heart,  I 
gloried  to  think  that  my  suffering  was  for  Aurelie, 
and  this  steeled  me  to  go  through  the  tortures  of 
hell.  By  day  I  slept  a  little,  and  when  the  hosts  of 
vermin  crept  from  the  recesses  of  the  prison  to  make 
the  hours  hideous  with  their  clamour  and  their  hate- 
ful sport — when  the  ice-crystalled  spray  came  scat- 
tering through  the  window  to  drench  me  to  the  skin — 
I  tramped  about  in  my  misery,  sometimes  with  loud 
songs,  sometimes  with  mad  laughter,  and  all  the 
while  tortured  by  visions  of  Mademoiselle  Aurelie 
stretched  on  her  back,  as  she  had  fallen  beneath 
Madame's  swift  thrust  on  the  terrace  of  the 
chateau. 

A  month  passed,  and  still  I  lived  ;  and  at  last  there 
came  a  day  when  M.  de  la  Valette  entered  the 
dungeon  to  say  that  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri 
had  arrived  at  Sainte  Roxane,  and  would  see  me. 
The  lanthorn  which  he  held  dazzled  my  eyes,  and 
I  gazed  at  him,  blinking. 

"  Tell  Madame  to  go  back  to  Paris;  I  have  done 
with  her." 

*'  Oh,  come,  M.  le  Vicomte,  you  are  putting  a 
fresh  cord  round  your  neck  ;  and  I  daresay  the  Du- 
chesse has  a  tendresse  for  you.     It  is  a  mistake  for 


SAINTE  ROXANE  223 

any  man  to  resist  a  woman's  love.  Have  you  not 
already  learnt  that  ?  " 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  I  asked,  with  a  fierceness  which 
startled  him. 

"  In  one  of  my  rooms,"  he  replied. 

"  Alone  ?  " 

"  Except  for  a  couple  of  lacqueys." 

"  Take  me  to  her,"  I  said,  and  M.  de  la  Valette 
immediately  led  the  way  up  the  slimy  stair.  I 
crawled  after  him  as  fast  as  I  could,  but  the  Frog 
dungeon  seemed  to  have  made  an  old  and  weary  man 
of  me.  I  was  numbed  and  chattering  from  the  in- 
tense cold,  for  a  black  and  heavy  frost  had  turned 
every  drop  of  water  that  ran  about  the  cell  to  ice, 
and  the  occasional  flashes  of  spray  which  sprang 
through  the  slit  upon  my  shoulders  were  frozen  at 
once  to  my  clothes.  As  I  passed  along  one  of  the 
corridors  of  the  chateau  in  the  rear  of  the  Chatelain 
I  glanced  in  a  mirror,  and  then  I  saw  how  great  a 
wreck  I  had  become.  My  coat  was  glittering  with 
the  frosted  spindrift  from  the  Seine — my  face  was 
grey  and  lean,  and  the  savagery  of  my  eyes  was 
enough  to  frighten  the  devil,  and  had  not  M.  de  la 
Valette  allowed  Renard  to  shave  me  only  a  day 
before,  I  should  certainly  never  have  recognised 
myself. 

The  Chatelain  led  me  right  into  the  presence  of 
the  Duchesse. 

*'  I  have  brought  M.  leVicomteto  you,  Madame," 


224     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

he  said,  with  a  gay,  swinging  bow,  "  and  he  is  the 
only  prisoner  who  has  ever  survived  a  month's  in- 
carceration in  the  Frog  dungeon  of  Sainte  Roxane. 
Shall  I  leave  him  alone  to  your  pity  ?  " 

The  Duchesse  de  Berri  made  a  swift  motion  of 
assent,  and  M.  de  la  Valette  withdrew  from  the 
chamber  and  softly  closed  the  door. 

Madame  was  standing  by  the  window,  dressed  in 
a  magnificent  cloak  of  scarlet,  and  I  distinctly  saw 
her  shudder  as  she  gazed  at  me.  Her  pretty  mouth 
was  hidden  by  furs,  but  the  wanton  flash  of  her 
lustrous  eyes  still  possessed  a  charm  which  might 
lure  a  hundred  fresh  lovers  to  her  feet.  But  she 
would  never  lure  Audran  de  Championnet  there 
again.  Nay,  by  Saint  Denis,  Madame  la  Duchesse 
had  lost  her  hold  on  me  for  ever. 

"  Is  this  you?"  she  began,  in  a  voice  of  extreme 
gentleness. 

''  It  is  I,  Madame,"   I  said. 

''  I  have  come  to  offer  you  your  life." 

'*  I  would  rather  you  could  offer  me  death,"  I 
replied,  '*  I  should  welcome  it  with  joy  ;  but  as  for 
life,  Duchesse,  I  would  not  take  it  at  your  hands — 
no,  not  if  you  prayed  me  on  your  knees." 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  "  she  asked. 

My  only  answer  was  a  bitter  laugh. 

"  Another  week  and  you  will  be  dead  !  "  Madame 
said.  "  Think  of  it,  M.  le  Vicomte— another  seven 
days  in  the  Frog  dungeon  !     Dieu  !     I  have  heard  of 


SAINTE  ROXANE  225 

the  horrors  of  that  place!  Another  seven  days 
amid  the  filth  and  the  vermin,  and  the  wash  of  the 
Seine,  and  then  a  lingering  death,  perhaps  at  night, 
with  the  rats  waiting  hungrily  round  you  !  And  I — 
I  could  give  you  freedom  and  love  !  ** 

"  Duchesse,  you  are  lying  again  !  "  I  cried.  "  You 
are  come  here  to  torment  me,  and,  by  the  God 
above,  if  you  madden  me  afresh  Fll  take  your  white 
throat  in  my  hands,  and  send  you  where  you  can 
neither  tempt,  nor  he,  nor  play  the  courtesan.  The 
Chateau  Sainte  Roxane  has  nearly  done  for  me, 
Madame,  but  I  have  strength  enough  to  kill  you — 
yes,  I  have  strength  enough  for  that !  " 

She  sank  back  against  the  heavy  brocaded  curtains, 
and  her  face  went  white.  Sang  Dieu  !  I  had  fright- 
ened her  into  a  frenzy  of  fear,  and  the  next  moment 
she  was  grovelling  on  her  knees. 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  I  am  not  lying,  Audran.  Do  not 
look  at  me  like  that !  I  am  afraid  of  you  !  Where 
is  M.  de  la  Valette  ?     Where  is  he  ?  " 

She  gazed  wildly  round,  and  I  thought  she  was' 
going  to  shriek  for  the  Chatelain,  but  presently,  still 
on  her  knees,  she  crept  ^forward,  and  was  about  to 
take  my  hand  in  hers  when  I  snatched  it  away  with 
a  curse. 

"  What  has  become   of    Mademoiselle    de  Che- 

verny?"    I  cried.    "  Is  she  alive  or  dead  ?    Isawyour 

duel  upon  the  terrace  ;  I  saw  her  spare  you   thrice 

because  you  were  unfit  to  die,  and  then,  Madame,  I 

15 


226      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

saw  her  let  you  run  her  through  the  body  !  Why 
was  she  so  tired  of  h*fe?  What  new  misery  had  you 
been  bringing  upon  her  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  fair  challenge  between  us,"  gasped  the 
Duchesse,  "  and  in  the  salon  Mademoiselle  swore  to 
let  my  blood   run  !  " 

'*  Then  why  did  she  change  her  mind  and  court 
death  ? "  I  said.  *'  Madame,  you  must  have  had 
some  further  conversation  with  her,  prior  to  the 
duel.     Confess  all,  or  .  .  ." 

I  made  a  pretence  of  darting  at  her  throat — a 
brutal  threat  that  forced  her  into  a  terrified  acqui- 
escence to  my  will. 

"  Before  we  fought,  Mademoiselle  asked  what 
would  be  your  fate,"  she  panted,  "  and  I  told  her 
of  the  Frog  dungeon.  I  told  her  that  you  would 
soon  die  ;  I  pictured  the  horrors  of  the  night,  and 
then  she  murmured  that  you  were  suffering  for  her 
sake." 

''And  so  she,  too,  chose  death,"  I  said,  and  my 
voice  was  as  hard  as  a  flint.  ''  You  drove  her  to 
that,  Madame  ?  Well,  is  Mademoiselle  alive  or  in  her 
grave  ?  Quick !  I  have  scarce  patience  to  keep  my 
hands  from  you  !  " 

*'  She  lives !  "  breathed  the  Duchesse,  and  my 
heart  gave  a  great  leap.  Mademoiselle  lived  !  Great 
Heaven  !  what  a  flood  of  love  rushed  o'er  my  soul ! 
what  passion  fired  my  brain  !  I  was  entombed  in 
the  Chateau  Saint  Roxane,  while  she  was  free  to  go 


SAINTE  ROXANE  227 

forth  into  the  bright  world — to  taste  fresh  joys,  and 
set  her  red  lips  on  the  blossom  of  a  life  of  pleasure 
— to  leave  old  memories  far  behind  amid  the  misty 
past — to  forget  all — to  forget  me  ! 

Mother  of  Christ  !  I  was  shaken  to  the  heart  by 
the  very  dream  of  such  a  tragedy,  and  scarce  had 
strength  to  save  myself  from  pitching  on  my  face 
along  the  floor.  Madame  la  Duchesse  slid  back 
from  me,  and  stealthily  arose. 

''  Where  is  Mademoiselle  ?  "  I  cried,  with  a  rattle 
in  my  throat.  "  Is  she  still  at  the  Chateau  de  Che- 
verny  f 

"  Until  she  is  strong  enough  to  journey  to  Paris," 
said  the  Duchesse. 

"  To  Paris  ?  "  I  exclaimed,  my  eyes  wondering  at 
her. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Madame,  gliding  a  little  farther 
away  from  me.  "  I  may  as  well  tell  you  the  truth 
now,  M.  le  Vicomte.  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny  is 
determined  to  go  to  the  Palais-Royal  to  beg  your 
release  of  my  father  the  Regent !  " 

I  was  too  stunned  to  open  my  lips. 

''  If  nothing  else  will  save  you — if  words  and  tears 
fail,  she  is  prepared  to  offer  Monseigneur  a  bribe," 
continued  the  Duchesse,  biting  at  her  furs.  ''  And 
what  do  you  think  it  will  be,  Monsieur  ?  " 

*'  I  sank  into  a  fauteuil  and  gazed  up  at  her  with 
a  face  of  agony. 

"  Tell  me  !  "  I  gasped.     ''  Mon  Dieu,  speak  !  " 


228     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

"  How  can  I  say  the  truth  ? "  she  softly  cooed, 
and  there  was  the  very  devil  of  malice  in  her  splendid 
eyes. 

*'  Mon  Dieu,  speak ! "  I  cried  again,  and  then 
Madame  laughed  across  the  room  at  me. 

"  Mademoiselle  is  going  to  buy  you  of  Monsei- 
gneur  the  Regent,"  she  said,  triumphantly. 

"And  the  price?"  I  whispered,  sweat  pouring 
from  my  face. 

"  Mademoiselle  herself!  "  cried  the  Duchesse. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

FOR  THE   SAKE   OF   MADEMOISELLE 

"  God  forbid ! "  I  exclaimed,  struggling  to  my 
feet.  "  God  forbid,  Madame  !  I  would  rather  bear 
the  tortures  of  the  damned  than  let  Mademoiselle 
de  Cheverny  sell  her  body  for  my  sake.  But  I  will 
not  believe  Monseigneur  could  be  so  base  as  to  take 
her  in  exchange  for  my  life — the  life  of  a  man  who 
does  but  suffer  his  deserts.  I  will  not  believe  that 
even  he  could  be  so  low  a  libertine !  " 

''  Then  there  still  might  remain  another  to  be 
won !  "  murmured  the  Duchesse. 

*'  Who  ?  "  I  cried  ;  and  she  softly  answered  : 

''Dubois." 

'*  Dubois  !  "  I  breathed,  and  down  sank  my  heart 
again.  Ah,  there  lay  my  real  enemy  and  Mademoi- 
selle's danger  !  If  in  despair  she  went  from  the 
Resent  to  M.  I'Abbe,  she  was  lost  ;  and  Madame  de 
Berri  smiled  to  watch  my  white  face  and  wild,  bloody 
eyes.  I  could  have  bowed  my  head  and  wept  like 
a  child  ;  but  if  ever  Heaven  called  on  me  to  play  the 
man  it  was  at  this  hour,  when  the  bitterest  cup  that 
Fate  can  send  a  lover  was  lifted  to  my  lips.    To  know 

that  Mademoiselle  might  reach  the  hands  of  Dubois — 

229 


230     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

to  realise  she  might  voluntarily  yield  herself  to  him 
to  save  me  from  a  death  which  I  would  die  a  thou- 
sand times  over  rather  than  she  should  suffer  shame 
and  martyrdom — Mother  of  Christ,  what  agony! 

Yes,  Madame  la  Duchesse  was  having  her  revenge, 
and  tasting  the  sweets  of  a  vengeance  worthy  even 
of  her ;  and  it  was  my  turn  now  to  kneel  at  her  feet 
— my  turn  to  snatch  at  her  hand  and  implore  her 
pity,  her  aid,  her  mercy — I,  who  had  called  her 
courtesan,  and  had  nearly  let  my  fingers  snap  upon 
her  slender  throat ! 

She  looked  down  at  me,  mocking,  with  a  smile 
that  was  indescribable  in  its  malevolence. 

*'  Hear  me,  Madame,  for  the  sake  of  Heaven ! "  I 
cried.  *'  Go  to  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny  and  say 
such  a  sacrifice  would  be  useless  ;  say  I  am  dead,  and 
that  the  rats  have  claimed  me  ;  lie  to  her,  and  I  will 
call  down  the  blessings  of  the  saints  upon  your  head. 
Have  mercy,  Duchesse,  on  the  woman  that  I  love!" 

Madame's  eyes  flamed. 

*'  So,  at  length  you  are  come  to  my  knees,  a  lover 
confessed,"  she  said,  and  her  beauty  at  the  moment 
was  utterly  transcendent. 

''  Yes,  Duchesse,"  I  replied,  "  I  love  her,  and  I 
pray  Heaven  she  loves  me  !  " 

''  And  you  can  ask  my  mercy  ?  Mille  diables ! 
no  man  in  the  world  save  the  Vicomte  de  Cham- 
pionnet  would  dare  threaten,  scorn,  and  then  beg  a 
favour  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri !  " 


FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  MADEMOISELLE     231 

"  You  never  cared  one  beat  of  your  heart  for  me, 
Madame." 

'*  What  man  yet  gauged  a  woman's  thoughts  ?  I 
may  have  cared  for  you  :  I  may  have  loathed  you  ; 
and  now,  Monsieur,  all  I  desire  is  to  make  you  pay 
my  own  price.  Could  you  blame  me  if  I  wished  to 
set  my  heel  upon  your  lips  ?  " 

"  You  have  already  set  it  on  my  heart !  " 

"  And  I  will  keep  it  there  !  Yes,  Monsieur,  you 
may  yet  be  free  of  the  dungeon  of  the  Chateau 
Sainte  Roxane,  but  you  shall  never  break  free  of  me  ! 
M.  le  Vicomte,  I  have  still  a  fancy  to  become  your 
wife  ;  and  if  you  ever  leave  this  place  it  will  not  be 
as  the  lover  of  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny,  but  as 
the  husband  of  Madame  de  Berri !  " 

"  Never  !  "  I  cried,  and  tottered  like  a  man  full 
of  wine. 

Madame  laughed  a  low,  soft  laugh. 

"  Wait,  Monsieur,  and  listen.  In  three  days 
Mademoiselle  will  be  sufficiently  recovered  to  go  to 
Paris,  and  if  once  she  reaches  the  Palais-Royal  she 
can  only  gain  your  pardon  by  becoming  what  you 
deem  me  to  have  long  ago  become — a  courtesan. 
You  see,  I  do  not  forget  rash  words  ;  I  have  a  good 
memory,  and  you  shall  smart  for  every  insult.  She 
will  be  either  the  mistress  of  Monseigneur  the  Re- 
gent or  Dubois,  perhaps  mistress  of  both  and  others 
as  well,  for  men  tire  of  women,  and  constancy  does 
not  exist  at  the  Palais-Royal.'* 


232      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

*'  But  she  shall  not  go  to  Paris !  God  will  not  let 
her  !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  It  is  strange  how  men  in  extremis  of  mind  or 
body  patronise  le  Grand  Dieu,"  reflected  the 
Duchesse.  "  You  are  growing  weak,  Vicomte,  and 
there  are  tears  leaping  down  your  cheeks.  You  are 
no  longer  the  old  gay,  debonair,  swaggering  Audran 
de  Championnet  of  a  few  weeks  ago,  and  yet,  so 
strange  a  thing  is  woman's  love,  I  am  prepared  to 
wed  you, — I,  the  daughter  of  the  Regent  of  France." 

She  tossed  back  her  head  with  superb  pride,  and 
the  light  in  her  eyes  was  a  challenge. 

"  Madame,"  I  said,  "  I  would  not  receive  you  as 
my  wife  to  gain  my  release  from  twenty  Saintes 
Roxanes !  I  would  not  marry  you  to  save  my 
life  a  score  of  times  !  " 

The  Duchesse  beat  her  little  hands  together  in  a 
dumb  fury. 

**  And  who  are  you  to  speak  of  love  ?  "  I  continued, 
gazing  steadily  at  her.  "  Once,  Madame,  I  was  pre- 
pared to  sell  my  body  and  soul  for  you  ;  but  you  have 
proved  j^ourself  unworthy — you  have  lied — you  have 
played  the  coquette — you  have  even  done  worse,  and 
God  only  knows  how  many  lovers  you  have  drawn  in- 
to the  net  of  your  amours.  There  is  one  woman  alone 
that  I  worship,  and  she  is  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny." 

A  light,  wanton  laugh  fell  from  her  lips. 

"  Mademoiselle  can  never  be  yours.  Monsieur. 
She  will  belong  to  Monseigneur,  or  to  M.  I'Abbe — 


FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  MADEMOISELLE     233 

while  you,  saved  by  her  dishonour,  will  live  to  dream 
of  her  amid  the  magnificent  intoxication  of  Versailles 
or  the  Palais-Royal.  You  will  live  to  suffer,  M.  le 
Vicomte,  and  to  hear  Mademoiselle's  name  tossed  to 
and  fro  by  the  lips  of  the  vilest  roues  in  France  .  .  ." 

"  Stop,  Madame,  in  the  name  of  Heaven  !  *'  I  cried. 
*' Anything  but  that!" 

The  Duchesse  smiled,  and  came  nearer  to  me. 

"  U  you  consent  to  wed  me  within  three  days,  I 
swear  on  the  Cross  to  procure  your  pardon  from 
Monseigneur." 

*'  And  Mademoiselle  ?  "  I  murmured. 

"  Will  be  under  no  necessity  of  begging  your 
liberty  at  his  hands.  She  will  remain  at  Cheverny 
— unharmed,  pure.'* 

"  But  what  porwer  have  you,  Madame,  to  drag  my 
pardon  from  the  Regent  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  man  in  the  world  I  cannot  win  to  do 
my  bidding,"  she  replied. 

"  Here  in  the  chateau  is  a  chapel,"  I  said.  "  Will 
you  swear  before  God's  altar  that  you  have  come 
to  me  with  the  truth — that  Mademoiselle  intends  to 
sacrifice  herself  for  me,  and  that  I  can  only  save  her 
by  an  alliance  with  you  ?  " 

Madame  la  Duchesse  did  not  hesitate. 

"  Yes,  Monsieur,"  she  whispered.     *'  I  will  swear." 

"But  why  do  you  desire  my  hand?"  I  cried. 
"Once,  Madame,  I  could  have  given  you  loyalty — I 
could  have  given  you  love  ;  but   now,  even  though 


234     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

I  wedded  you  a  hundred  times,  my  heart  could 
never  beat  for  you.  It  is  no  longer  mine,  but 
Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny's." 

Her  voice  sharpened  and  cut  me  like  a  knife. 

"  I  regret  that  she  can  never  be  yours,  Monsieur. 
You  ask  me  why  I  wish  to  be  your  wife,  and  I 
answer  that  I  cannot  tell  you.  Some  women,  Au- 
dran,  are  indescribable.  They  love  and  yet  cannot 
be  true.  I  have  loved  you — once — twice,  many 
times ;  but  there  have  been  days  when  my  heart 
ran  riot,  and  then  you  were  forgotten." 

"And  so,  Madame,  you  cannot  be  faithful  to  me 
even  through  the  sacrament  of  marriage." 

"  As  faithful  as  some  wives — that  is  all."  she  said. 
"Are  you  ready  to  prove  my  fidelity?  At  this 
moment,  Vicomte,  I  have  a  passion  for  you.' 

"  How  long  will  it  last,  Duchesse  ?  You  may,  for 
all  I  know,  have  had  passions  for  scores  of  lovers, 
among  them  M.  le  Comte  d'Anquital  and  M.  le  Mar- 
quis de  Merivale.  Scandal  says  you  have  always 
been  prodigal  in  your  loves." 

If  looks  could  kill  I  should  have  fallen  dead  at 
Madame's  feet ;  and  with  her  scarlet  cloak  trailing 
behind  her,  she  swept  towards  the  door — a  curse 
ringing  from  her  lips.  Then,  in  a  thrill  of  agony, 
the  dread  that  her  assurance  of  Mademoiselle's  in- 
tention might  not  be  a  lie  took  hold  of  my  soul  and 
maddened  me,  and,  reeling  forward,  I  stretched  out 
my  hand  and  stayed  her  flight. 


FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  MADEMOISELLE     235 

''Come  with  me  to  the  chapel  and  swear  your 
words  are  true ! "  I  cried.  "  Where  is  M.  de  la 
Valette  ?  Call  him  !  I  will  hear  your  oath,  and 
then,  Madame,  you  can  go  to  Mademoiselle  de  Che- 
verny,  and  tell  her  that  it  would  be  useless  for  her 
to  strive  to  buy  my  life  of  the  Regent,  because  I  am 
about  to  purchase  my  freedom  through  an  alliance 
with  the  Duchesse  de  Berri." 

My  voice  sank,  and  she  gazed  at  me  in  triumph. 

''  I  said  there  was  no  man  in  France  I  could  not 
win  to  do  my  will !  "  she  cried,  and  went  out  into 
the  corridor  in  search  of  the  Chatelain ;  while  I, 
sinking  down  again  into  my  chair,  launched  forth 
peal  after  peal  of  mad  laughter  ;  and  when,  a  mo- 
ment later,  Madame  re-entered  the  room  with  M.  de 
la  Valette,  I  was  stretched  on  the  floor  with  the 
tears  streaming  down  my  face.  But  for  those  tears 
I  think  my  heart  had  burst. 

*  >Jf  ^  -Sf  -5^  * 

Resting  on  M.  de  la  Valette's  arm,  I  accompanied 
the  Duchesse  to  the  little  bare  chapel  of  the  cha- 
teau ;  and  when  she  had  sworn  her  oath,  Madame 
strove  to  induce  the  Chatelain  to  change  my  quar- 
ters, but  he  was  adamant,  and  with  as  great  a  sang- 
froid as  I  could  muster  I  parted  from  her  and  re- 
turned to  my  old  prison. 

Three  days  and  nights  wore  through,  and  still  I 
lived. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

LIFE  AND    LOVE 

On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  I  was  bidden 
by  the  Chatelain  to  come  out  of  the  dungeon  once 
more  ;  and  when  at  last  I  reached  the  chamber  in 
which  I  had  interviewed  the  Duchesse  de  Berri, 
there,  to  my  unutterable  astonishment,  was  none 
other  than  M.  le  Marquis  de  Merivale.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  wave  of  compassion  that  swept  over 
his  face, — no,  not  if  I  live  a  hundred  years  ;  and  he 
assisted  me  to  a  fauteuil  with  a  swift  courtesy  which 
caused  the  tears  to  flash  into  my  weak  blinking 
eyes. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  said,  **  permit  me  to  present  to 

you  my  congratulations.     It  is  your  wedding-day, 

and  I  am  sent  by  Monseigneur  the  Regent  of  France 

with  an  order  for  your  release  from  the    Chateau 

Sainte  Roxane.     Madame  la  Duchesse  is,  I  believe, 

on  the  road  towards  the  Salesian   convent,  whither 

I  now  beg  you  will  accompany  me.     My  valet  is 

here  with  some  appropriate  clothes,  and  while  he  is 

aiding  your  toilet  I  will  make  all  arrangements  with 

M.   de   la   Valette   for   your   immediate    freedom. 
236 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  237 

Come,  Vicomte,  you  are  yet  in  the  summer  of  your 
years,  and  there  's  still  a  charm  in  the  world.  In 
three  hours  you  may  be  the  blithest  man  in  France. 
You  have  suffered,  my  friend,  but  when  Madame  is 
your  wife  your  rejuvenescence  will  be  complete." 

I  sat  still,  and  continued  to  gaze  at  him  with  my 
winking  eyes.  The  Frog  dungeon  had  for  the 
moment  dimmed  my  sight,  and  I  was  but  little  bet- 
ter than  a  blind  man  when  a  shaft  of  sun  came 
streaming  through  the  windows  and  played  around 
my  feet.  My  brain,  too,  seemed  thick,  heavy,  wild, 
and  as  for  my  heart,  it  had  frozen  to  ice. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  M.  le  Marquis?"  I 
asked.  *'  There  was  a  time  when  you  loved  the 
Duchesse,  and  now  you  have  come  to  see  me  wed 
her." 

"And  why  not?"  returned  the  Englishman. 
"  A  wedding.  Monsieur,  is  of  interest  even  to  a  re- 
jected lover,  and  when  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans  desired 
me  to  bear  your  pardon  to  Sainte  Roxane  I  could 
scarcely  dare  decline."  And  I  distinctly  heard  the 
Marquis  laugh  as  he  suddenly  slipped  out  of  the 
room  and  left  me  to  the  mercies  of  his  treasure  of  a 
valet. 

In  half-an-hour  I  was  transformed.  Michael 
dressed  me  in  a  coat  of  daffodil  and  silver,  a  rose 
vest,  white  breeches  and  hose,  and  at  the  instant  he 
fastened  a  rapier  to  my  side  and  offered  me  a  cup 
of  wine  I  began    to    feel   a   new   man.     My    face, 


238     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

cleansed  of  the  slime  and  filth  of  the  Frog  dungeon, 
shone  white  as  ivory  ;  my  eyes  were  bright  with  an 
unnatural  brilliance,  but  as  the  Moselle  warmed  and 
braced  my  body  I  felt  that  even  though  bound  by 
indissoluble  bonds  to  Madame  de  Berri,  I  might  at 
least  go  forth  and  seek  peace  amid  the  romance  and 
dangers  of  the  life  I  had  lived  with  such  reckless 
gaiety  in  the  old  unregenerate  days  long  past. 

"  Yes,  I  would  wed  Madame,  but  naught  in  the 
world  should  chain  me  to  her  side  ;  and  in  this  mind 
I  followed  M.  le  Marquis  to  the  carriage,  acknowl- 
edged the  salute  of  M.  de  la  Valette,  and  drove  off 
to  the  Salesian  Convent  of  Sainte  Roxane.  The 
morn  was  fragrant  with  the  breath  of  spring,  the 
almond-trees  were  in  blossom  and  the  scent  of  the 
violet  was  heavy  on  the  air  ;  and  though  the  distant 
hills  were  ringed  about  by  ribs  of  sparkling  snow, 
the  song  of  birds  deep  in  the  valley  warmed  winter 
from  the  heart.  M.  le  Marquis  kept  silence  all  the 
way,  and  until  the  horses  stopped  at  the  gates  of 
the  convent,  and  the  Mother  Superior  came  rustling 
out  to  welcome  him,  never  a  v/ord  passed  between  us. 

"  M.  le  Vicomte  has  come,"  he  announced  ;  and, 
with  a  charming  bow  and  smile,  FAbbesse  Cecile 
led  us  through  a  silent  corridor  and  so  on  into  the 
small  but  magnificent  chapel.  The  door  closed,  and 
almost  at  the  instant  of  our  arrival  the  organ  pealed, 
and  the  liquid  notes  of  the  nuns*  voices  commenced 
to  rise  and  fall  in  exquisite  cadence  on  the  ear. 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  239 

I  knew  not  what  they  sang,  for  my  heart  was  wild 
with  inextinguishable  longings  for  the  love  of  Ma- 
demoiselle, and  I  was  moving  towards  the  altar  with 
my  eyes  fixed  upon  the  old  silvery-haired  priest, 
when  the  Marquis  caught  my  arm  and  swung  me 
into  an  adjoining  oratory.  It  was  very  dim,  but 
standing  by  a  prie-dieu  was  a  lithe,  white-clad  figure, 
and  I  wished  to  Heaven  Madame  had  met  me  at  the 
altar,  once  for  all,  and  spared  me  the  bitterness 
of  another  interview  The  door  fastened  softly, 
and  then  the  Duchesse  approached,  holding  out  her 
little  hands  in  a  gesture  of  supplication. 

"  Audran  !  "  she  whispered. 

I  had  no  welcome  for  her  save  a  scowl. 

*'  Audran ! "  she  said  again,  and  came  nearer, 
until,  with  a  nameless  abhorrence,  I  felt  her  fingers 
plunge  lightly  into  my  silken  sleeve.  I  stepped 
back. 

''  Mon  Dieu,  Madame,  I  have  done  with  your 
caresses,"  I  said,  *'  and  though  in  an  hour  you  may 
claim  my  hand  and  be  my  wife,  you  can  never,  even 
in  a  lifetime,  hope  to  win  my  heart.  Mademoiselle 
de  Cheverny  is  in  possession  of  that !  " 

She  uttered  something  between  a  low  laugh  and 
a  cry  in  a  voice  inexpressibly  moved,  and  lifted  her 
face  to  mine.  I  looked  down,  and  it  was  the  face, 
not  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Berri,  but  of  Aur(§lie  ! 

I  did  not  speak,  because  there  are  times  when 
love  can  find  no  words,  but  I  snatched  her  to  my 


240     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

breast  and  held  her  there,  panting,  breathless,  and 
as  white  as  the  snow  which  fell  around  her  when  we 
parted  in  the  gardens  of  Cheverny.  In  the  choir  of 
the  chapel  the  nuns  were  still  singing,  and  with  the 
music  falling  like  the  voice  of  Heaven  on  our  ears  I 
sought  Mademoiselle's  lips,  and  drank  from  them 
the  sacrament  of  a  love  greater  than  life,  and  death, 
and  the  illimitable  aeons  of  eternity  ! 

For  a  moment  she  lay  still  in  my  arms,  and  I  only 
released  her  when  a  soft  tapping  on  the  door  an- 
nounced the  reappearance  of  the  Marquis  de  Meri- 
vale.     His  face  was  radiant  with  smiles. 

"  Come,  Monsieur,  are  you  ready  ?  "  he  asked. 

*'  Ready  !  "  I  exclaimed.  ''  For  what,  M.  le  Mar- 
quis? 

*'  For  your  wedding,"  he  replied. 

"  Has  Madame  arrived  ? "  I  said,  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

''  No,  but  she  is  on  the  road.  Quick,  M.  le 
Vicomte,  there  is  no  time  to  lose!  " 

"  Mon  Grand  Dieu,  I  do  not  understand  you  !"  I 
gasped.  "  You  brought  me  here  to  wed  Madame  de 
Bern,  and  led  me  instead  into  the  presence  of  Made- 
moiselle de  Cheverny.  And  now.  Monsieur — now 
you  are  come  to  drag  me  back  from  Heaven  to  Hell ! " 

I  gazed  wildly  at  him,  but  his  only  answer  was  a 
laugh  ;  and  although  Aur^lie's  eyes  were  glittering 
with  tears,  her  face  wore  a  smile  that  made  my 
heart  leap. 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  241 

"  I  am  here  to  take  the  place  of  the  Duchesse," 
she  said.  "  If  M.  le  Vicomte  would  save  his  life, 
he  must  be  content  to  gain  Monseigneur  the  Regent's 
pardon  by  making  me  Madame  la  Vicomtesse  de 
Championnet." 

A  flush  crimsoned  her  cheeks,  and  I  flung  my 
arms  wide  that  she  might  fall  again  upon  my 
breast,  while  the  Marquis,  with  his  accustomed 
delicacy,  discreetly  turned  on  his  heel  and  studied 
the  saints  which  shone  in  the  midst  of  the  little 
painted  windows  of  the  oratory. 

"  Who  has  worked  this  miracle  ?  "  I  breathed. 
"  Was  it  you,  my  life  ? "  but  Aurelie  shook  her 
head. 

"  It  was  M.  le  Marquis,"  she  said,  nestling  an 
inch  closer  to  my  shoulder,  and  in  the  excess  of 
my  gratitude  I  loosened  my  arms  from  my  love, 
and  rushed  forward  to  lift  his  hand  to  my  lips.  He 
drew  it  away  as  though  I  had  stung  him  ;  and  then 
I  remembered  that  EngHshmen  do  not  suffer  em- 
braces from  any  but  women. 

"  Monsieur,"  I  murmured,  ^'  how  can  I  repay  you  ?  " 

"  By  making  haste  with  your  wedding,  M.  le 
Vicomte,"  he  said.  "  Madame  la  Duchesse  will  pres- 
ently arrive,  and  then  there'll  be  the  Devil !  Do  not 
waste  words  on  me ;  but  if  you  are  inclined  to  pre- 
sent my  fighting-cock  with  a  pair  of  gold  spurs  in 
memory  of  his  battle  at  the  Palais-Royal,  I  have  no 

doubt,  Monsieur,  he  will  be  proud  of  your  apprecia- 
16 


242      FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

tion.  It  was  Saint  Peter,  and  not  I,  who  won  your 
pardon  from  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans.  Hearing  I  was 
still  in  Paris,  Monseigneur  desired  my  presence  at  a 
select  card-party,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  fun  intro- 
duced a  magnificent  cock,  on  which  he  was  prepared 
to  lay  a  wager  of  five  thousand  louis.  I  immediately 
sent  Michael  for  Saint  Peter ;  and,  by  Heaven,  they 
fought  until  they  scarcely  had  a  feather  left.  Mon- 
seigneur was  ready  to  lay  seven,  eight,  ten  thousand 
louis  on  his  bird,  so  badly  was  mine  being  served  ;  and 
amid  all  the  excitement  and  blood,  I  cried  out  that 
I  would  stop  the  fight  unless  M.  le  Due  was  wiUing  to 
include  in  his  wager  the  life  of  the  Vicomte  de  Charn- 
pionnet.  On  my  soul,  I  thought  he  would  have 
called  his  lacqueys  and  had  me  kicked  from  the 
doors ;  but  there  chanced  to  be  one  or  two  men 
there,  Monsieur,  who  had  known  you  in  better  days, 
and,  in  spite  of  M.  I'Abbe  Dubois,  Monseigneur  was 
persuaded  to  throw  your  pardon,  instead  of  the  ten- 
thousand  louis,  down  upon  the  card-table.  Saint 
Peter  won,  and  I  left  the  Palais-Royal  with  the  order 
for  your  release  from  the  Chateau  Sainte  Roxane. 
That  is  how  it  all  happened,  M.  le  Vicomte  !  " 

"  But  the  Duchesse?"   I  exclaimed. 

"Ah,  yes,  the  Duchesse!"  laughed  the  Marquis. 
*'  really,  Vicomte,  she  is  superb,  and  I  do  not  think 
another  such  woman  exists." 

"  Thank  God  for  that !  "  I  cried. 

"  Madame  is  incomprehensible,"  continued  M.  le 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  243 

Marquis,  "  and  I  am  beginning  to  believe  she  has 
loved  M.  de  Championnet  all  the  time.  I  had 
scarcely  returned  from  M.  le  Due's  card-party,  when 
a  messenger  arrived  to  beg  my  immediate  attendance 
at  the  Palais-Royal,  and  back  I  went,  to  find  Mon- 
seigneur  in  the  devil  of  a  rage.  The  Duchesse  had 
just  intimated  to  him  her  intention  of  wedding  you, 
Monsieur.  She  had,  it  appears,  been  suffering  from 
intense  ennui,  and  the  idea  occurred  to  her  that  it 
would  startle  Paris  if  she  contracted  a  secret  alliance 
with  the  prisoner  of  Sainte  Roxane,  and  drove  in 
state  through  the  streets  to  the  Palace  of  the  Lux- 
embourg. So  she  demanded  your  release.  The 
Regent  refused,  and  swore  volubly  ;  Madame  swore 
back  at  him  ;  but  in  the  end  he  signed  your  pardon  a 
second  time,  and  the  Duchesse  triumphantly  retired 
to  bed." 

I  held  my  breath.  Ciel  !  Madame  la  Duchesse, 
then,  had  actually  kept  her  word,  and  succeeded  in 
winning  my  freedom  that  she  might  carry  through 
her  desires ;  and  I  awaited  with  impatience  the 
conclusion  of  M.  de  Merivale's  recital. 

**  M.  le  Due  d'Orleans  was  determined  to  play 
Madame  an  exquisite  trick,"  ran  on  the  Marquis. 
"  He  did  not  tell  her  he  had  already  given  an  order 
for  your  release  ;  but  he  begged  me  to  hasten  to 
Sainte  Roxane  and  see  that  you  at  once  quitted 
the  chateau,  so  that  when  the  Duchesse  arrived 
she  might  find  you  flown. 


244     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

''' Monseigneur,'  I  said,  *I  have  a  better  plan. 
M.  de  Championnet  loves  Mademoiselle  de  Che- 
verny.  Permit  me  to  arrange  that  the  sisters  of  the 
Salesian  Convent  shall  not  be  cheated  of  a  wed- 
ding in  their  chapel,  and  you  will  earn  the  devo- 
tion of  Mademoiselle  and  the  everlasting  loyalty  of 
M.  le  Vicomte! ' 

*' '  What ! '  he  cried.  'You  would  have  Made- 
moiselle take  the  place  of  the  Duchesse?' 

*'  *  Exactly,  Monseigneur,'  I  replied ;  and  in  a 
transport  of  ecstasy  the  Regent  could  scarcely 
refrain  from  falling  on  my  neck. 

*' '  Madame  intends  starting  for  Sainte  Roxane  at 
ten  o'clock,'  he  said.  '  Leave  Paris  three  hours 
sooner,  M.  le  Marquis.  Go  first  to  Cheverny,  and 
escort  Mademoiselle,  if  she  be  willing,  to  the  Salesian 
Convent,  and  then  drive  to  the  chateau  for  De 
Championnet ;  and  I  would  give  Versailles  to  see 
the  face  of  Madame  la  Duchesse  when  she  arrives 
at  the  chapel  !  " 

'*  I  obeyed  Monseigneur's  commands  ;  I  went  to 
Cheverny,  and  in  some  trepidation  requested  a  word 
with  Mademoiselle  ;  "  and  the  Marquis,  glancing 
towards  Aurelie,  presented  her  with  his  most  deli- 
cate bow. 

"  And  you  were  willing  ? "  I  cried,  taking  her 
hands  in  mine. 

''  What  could  I  say  ?  "  she  whispered.  "  If  I 
were  not   willing.   Monsieur,  I   should   not   now  be 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  245 

here,"  and  then  she  covered  her  face,  but  her  bright 
eyes  laughed  at  me  'twixt  her  little  white  fingers. 
I  had  a  longing  to  snatch  her  again  to  me,  but  the 
Marquis  de  Merivale  opened  the  door  and  was  beck- 
oning us  ;  so  Avith  the  music  of  the  nuns'  voices 
chiming  on  our  ears,  we  went  to  the  altar,  and  when 
the  vows  were  said,  Madame  la  Vicomtesse,  leaning 
on  my  arm,  passed  with  me  out  into  the  brilliant 
sunshine. 

We  had  scarcely  entered  the  coach — nay,  my  foot 
was  only  on  the  step,  when  the  noise  of  horses  tear- 
ing along  the  resonant  road  told  us  that  Madame 
la  Duchesse  de  Berri  was  come  !  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  her  as  she  stood  in  the  carriage,  and  of  her  lac- 
queys in  cream  and  gold  ;  I  saw  her  shake  her  fist 
at  me,  and  heard  her  voice  shrilly  cheering  on  the 
smoking  horses,  and  then  leaping  to  Aurelie's  side, 
I  bade  the  coachman  drive  like  the  wind  to  Che- 
verny,  and  with  a  wave  of  the  hand  to  M.  de  Meri- 
vale, who  stood  laughing  at  the  side  of  I'Abbesse 
Cecile  we  sped  away  from  the  convent. 

But  alas,  the  unexpected  invariably  happens,  and 
in  dashing  past  the  Duchesse  our  wheels  caught  in 
her  equipage,  and  Aurelie  and  I  were  shot  out  into 
the  road,  to  arise  shaken,  though  unhurt,  and,  at  the 
mercy  of  Madame  de  Berri ! 

Her  face  was  white  with  passion,  and  I  saw  her 
parted  lips  quivering  with  the  intensity  of  a  rage  she 
cared  not  to  conceal,  when  M.  le  Marquis  lounged 


246     FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

carelessly  forward,  and  the  first  lash  of  her  tongue 
fell  on  him. 

"  So  this  is  your  work,  Monsieur  ?  "  she  cried. 

M.  de  Merivale  bowed. 

"  A  very  pretty  lover,"  she  sneered.  "  I  sup- 
pose you  were  tired  of  Mademoiselle  de  Cheverny, 
and  welcomed  the  earliest  chance  of  getting  rid  of 
her  to  M.  le  Vicomte  de  Championnet.  You  and 
the  Vicomte,  Monsieur,  are  a  pair  of  demons !  " 

*' And  you,  Madame,  are  receiving  your  deserts? 
Did  M.  de  la  Valette  direct  you  to  the  convent  ?  " 

*'  No  ! "  she  cried.  "  Instinct  guided  me  here, 
and  when  the  Chatelain  said  you  had  left  Sainte 
Roxane  with  M.  le  Vicomte,  I  knew  some  new 
devilry  was  afoot.  But  you  shall  both  pay  for  your 
sport :  Audran  de  Championnet  escaped  from  the 
Frog  dungeon  through  a  forged  pardon,  and  he  shall 
return  there  to  die  a  rat's  death  amid  rats ;  while 
you,  M.  le  Marquis,  shall  find  a  home  in  the  Bas- 
tille. Here  is  M.  le  Due's  order  for  the  Vicomte's 
release,  but  he  will  not  need  it  now !  "  and 
Madame,  snatching  the  second  pardon  from  her 
bosom,  wrenched  it  into  a  hundred  pieces  and  called 
on  her  lacqueys  to  take  me  prisoner. 

I  whipped  out  my  sword,  and  at  the  same  mo- 
ment the  Marquis  held  to  the  gaze  of  the  Duchesse 
the  slip  of  paper  he  had  won  from  Monseigneur 
through  the  agency  of  his  fighting-cock  Saint  Peter, 
and  Madame,  recognising  that   she  was  indeed  the 


LIFE  AND  LOVE  247 

dupe,  burst  into  a  hurricane  of  oaths  that  made 
I'Abbesse  Cecile  cover  her  ears  and  beat  a  hasty  re- 
treat to  the  convent. 

Then  the  Duchesse  laughed,  and  the  empty  echo 
of  that  laugh  will  ring  in  my  heart  till  I  die  ;  but, 
with  the  gallantest  sangfroid  that  ever  was,  she 
alighted  from  her  carriage  and  laid  her  hand  on  M. 
de  Merivale's  arm. 

'^  Drive  the  Vicomte  de  Championnet  and  Madame 
la  Vicomtesse  to  Cheverny  !  "  she  cried,  turning  to 
her  lacqueys.  "  Come,  M.  le  Marquis,  I  am  tired  : 
lead  me  to  the  convent  ;  "  and,  with  a  last  flash 
of  her  eyes  at  Aurelie,  the  Duchesse  swept  out  of 
sight. 

A  week  later  we  heard  she  had  secretly  married 
the  Chevalier  de  Riom,  and  although  there  was  the 
devil  to  pay  at  the  Palais-Royal,  there  was  peace  at 
Cheverny. 

THE  END. 


CD31fimibE 


